


I don't care what you think (as long as it's about me)

by LuciferIsSatan



Series: Starting Over [6]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cultural Differences, Developing Relationship, Elf Culture & Customs, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meetings, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Harassment, Sexual Situations, Sexual Tension, Slut Shaming, Touch-Starved, not quite slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 133,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferIsSatan/pseuds/LuciferIsSatan
Summary: Dunmer as a people were disciplined, proud, and believed certain.. activities, per se, should be forcibly avoided until married.Now, that's all fine and good, of course, because Revyn is a proud dunmer and has spent years abiding by the principles expected of him. He supposes it only makes sense that after years of having never gone so far as to hold hands with anyone, let alone getting on behind a locked door that, when the opportunity presented itself, it would be a minor challenge. Nothing he couldn't handle, clearly.
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Revyn Sadri, Unrequited Ambarys Rendar/Revyn Sadri
Series: Starting Over [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711696
Comments: 142
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not apart of the cornerstone universe I made (I do have a proper sequel to Wanderlust [posted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25169938/chapters/60995206) \- just the first chapter as of 7/26/20, but it is posted) but I wanted to focus on this for a bit between that fic and this one because I miss Windhelm a bit, and this is going to be a little bit more on these two rather than a Real Plot.)
> 
> A/N: I've been thinking over the whole "i made up that dunmer culture as prudish as shit and i kinda want to play with that more" so here I am. This idea came to be due to this: " _In the Ashlands, native tribes ruled without laws or government and lived strictly by codes, rituals, and ancient traditions usually dictated by a wise woman or seer and implemented by a clan leader._ " (I found this on the dunmer wiki lore) and as a result to me it made sense for cultural codes to be treated as law, if that makes sense? Courting to me falls under "ancient traditions" and I ran with it, so we follow along with that logic with a people that value their roots more than anything, and especially so when they are not on their land anymore (where, arguably, for many, it's more important.)
> 
> Again: I write/edit this entirely on my own, so if there are any major mistakes or anything reads funny, please let me know! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

It was impossibly late.

The back alley where all the dunmer had been secluded to was still and silent, beside's, of course, the harsh howl of bitter wind racing through the narrow cracks of this time beaten place. Rolff Stone-Fist had been quiet for hours, and the dark elves that reside in the slum are ought to believe he's finally tired himself out for the night, and went home; doesn't mean unlatching any door locks, but it may grant them rest.

For everyone except one.

No; there wasn't enough time in the day, and what time was had was spent. He had a business to run, appearances to keep up, and- well, it was mostly the business. Running a store is exceptionally difficult in such a terrible climate, both geologically and politically, but he had to make ends meet because he had nothing else.

It was why he was up mere hours before the sun would begin to peek up to begin the dawn, why his lantern is nearly out of oil, why his finger is tapping impatiently at the corner of a novel that he was _so sure_ he would be able to finish well before morning; but his lantern light was burning low, and there were still too many pages pressed between his thumb and forefinger left to go.

Revyn Sadri had a bad day; a really awful horrible sort of day that left him crawling into his bed feeling rather ill. Indisposed with his covers bunched up in his arms and between his legs, trying not to think on it but feeling so distinctly alone.

Sleep eluded him, and whether it took him very long or no time at all, Revyn turned back on his lantern and grabbed the first book on his shelf that his hand touched and made do with its contents. It wasn't a long novel, and the dog-eared edge tells him he tried reading this before a while ago, though he doesn't remember much of the story. Revyn settled into wiping at the stress under his eyes and tried to focus as hard as he absolutely could on the yellowed pages before him.

It helped in one way while agitating altogether different problems he was facing.

His back hurt a bit from his bad posture, legs crossed with his bare feet tucked under his pajama bottoms, his elbow digging into the side of his knee where his head rested uncomfortably against his palm. The novel was opened against his lap, eyes dragging lazily over the script as the fire in his lantern danced and flickered. He was tired, knowing he should have been asleep hours ago at this point, but to distract from his discomfort of the day he melted into such a state of just _lack_ as the story was _finally_ getting interesting; two star-crossed lovers clashing unaware with the other on the opposite side of a war. Reading near-miss of each possibility of one could-be killing blow after the next until he eventually realized he was rereading the same sentence and not really absorbing anything anymore.

Rubbing his eyes in frustration, he stopped himself short of just skipping a few pages ahead to see if they make it out alright, and instead, doggy eared the page and set it down on his nightstand with a heavy sigh.

It was sort of a stupid story, the dialogue was honestly atrocious and corny, and the protagonists slept together within the first handful of chapters, which usually meant that something bad was going to happen with so many pages left. He's not really sure why he's still reading it, but there was something about the descriptions of yearning and desire that sort of had his belly all flipped and tied up, where putting it down felt like having to acknowledge his day again and that meant losing those butterflies.

It was the closest to being in love he knows he'll ever get, and that's alright.

Love and relationships were safer on a page. They were safer and structured and orchestrated by a set plan made by the author; there were no strange hiccups in fake relationships, there were no unknowns, no vulnerabilities, no real risk. Revyn could settle into their roles and it be of no real consequence to him, no real commitment, no hurt feelings when the book is over and set to collect dust on his shelf to forget about later. No horrifically long courtship, no expectation of his peers, nobody to disappoint, nobody to watch fall out of love, nothing. He liked nothing. Nothing was safe.

Romance novels were safe and stupid, as he eventually snuffed out the flame of his lantern, pushing under his covers and fantasizing until sleep eventually took him.

His dreams short-lived and his belly warm with a yearning he can do nothing about, as he starts his day refusing to think on it further. Eat his breakfast, clean up, open his store, rinse and repeat; he was a respected pawnbroker, well-meaning and recluse, and on the surface, he's proud it doesn't show the sort of novels he eats up when nobody is looking. Not terrible, just sad, he thinks, and it's humiliating to him that he derives such comfort from them.

A private hopeless romantic that refuses to engage, as Revyn has never and _will_ never actively consider the ramifications of nearing his middle age and having never gone so far as to kiss anyone, let alone make relations behind a locked door.

Terms such as "touch-starved" were not an active part of his vocabulary; it was just how things _were_. From an early age, as soon as he could walk, he was instructed on how to keep his hands firmly to himself. Lay your hands on someone only in instances where it was required and nothing more; no hugging, no hand-holding, even brushing arms was too far when done so outside of family and therefore was prohibited.

' _Save yourself for marriage_ ,' his village seer had told him and a number of other young Dunmer during their coming of age; ' _Your body is the one vessel you will inhibit during your time on this realm, and you must treat it with respect. You don't get second chances_.'

She was much older now, living with him and the rest of the refugee's in the Grey-Quarter, and truthfully she doesn't do much official seering these days; hard to seer when the family that once ruled over their domain had been killed in the blast of the volcano. She's one of the last original enforcers of their culture that remained, to which Llavrana took her role very seriously, partially because of her years of study dedicated to her craft, but also because she was the last line of order they had left. The dunmer that settled alongside her followed her lead and advice, almost entirely without question; who was going to challenge a seer? Practicing and studying long before most dunmer of the Grey Quarter even existed; the last embodiment of home in such a strange and foreign place, all they had was her.

Llavrana lives on the opposite side of the Grey Quarter, in a home above the local mage temple, Greystone, where she teaches lessons occasionally and hosts families in matters of courtship, marriage, and funeral rites. She specializes in the aforementioned, but Llavrana has accumulated a few apprentices over the years that she has shaped in matters she struggles with in her ailing age. 

Rendvas Saraai, to start; he is a talented young mage with an inclination towards the metaphysical. Revyn knows very little beyond that, other than those who have worked with Rendvas claim he can speak with the dead; others say he has abilities that allow for ease in astral projection and travel, but is forced to keep his practices within Greystone for unspoken reasons between him and Llavrana. Truthfully, whether or not any of that was true, Revyn knew Rendvas to be pleasant and kind if not private, and the few times they've spoken in passing, he seemed to be content with his work and where he was in life.

Then there was Taliesin Darevo. Taliesin was a healer of sorts, and was far more ritualistic in his practices and ways, and would be gone for months at a time before secluding himself inside the far chambers in Greystone. He doesn't and won't speak to anyone, as far as Revyn has ever heard, outside of discussing ailments with possible patients, but was a chosen mute otherwise. Revyn found him.. odd, but nothing outside of that. He's given Revyn painkillers and cold medicine for Idesa and himself over the years and decided that any other practices Taliesin involved himself in was absolutely none of his business.

Lastly, there was Awen. 

Now, Awen was another case altogether. She is to be Llavrana's successor once she passes. It was impossible to find one without the other, as Awen has spent years of her adolescence to adulthood under Llavrana's shadow; both with given names, both having removed mortal attachments of a last and given up their individual to be of the Culture. To be a Seer required them to quite literally give their life to it; every breath, every decision, every action through thought and being was to be given to the study. It was a closed practice and an ever private one at that, and variation from that norm was forbidden. Awen stopped being her own person when she was too young, in the same fashion Llavrana stopped, and the Seer before her, and the Seer before them, and so on.

Llavrana and Awen had the power of influence beside them, for what they represent, for what they enforce, and Revyn was victim and complicit to it as anyone else.

A pair of young dunmer caught with their legs tied up in the hayloft, and even years after the pair eventually married, their names had been dragged so far into the mud that no dunmer would associate with them; it got so bad they had to leave the city with barely a cent to their name and Revyn still doesn't know if they're alright. He shouldn't care, but he does. He understands the consequences of his actions, and they had to deal with the consequence of theirs, but he still thinks about them sometimes. Just..- to _disrespect_ the vessel you reside in is to disrespect the very deities that crafted it, which use to be a crime back home; they live on Nord land now, and while it's difficult to try someone over a crime that doesn't exist on other lands, it doesn't go unpunished.

Revyn kept his head down and didn't understand what was so hard about just following simple guidelines. Going out of your way for something that could..- could _risk_ your reputation, your friends, your very _livelihood_ in many instances and it was so foolish and reckless, and for what? Being _sweaty_ against someone else? He barely liked the sight of his own body, what makes someone else so special to risk the very physical things in his life that he had to build? It took him years to get his business off the ground. He struggled for a very long time, having to finish raising his little sister after the sudden and abrupt death of their parents in the eruption, and he was barely an adult himself. Having to work and bleed and charm his way into having a sustainable income when he was still struggling with grief and loss and burden to just make it through another day; It was hard to understand anything out of simply trying to survive, so he never questioned it.

Never really wanted anything to do with it, actually.

It was wanton and convoluted and a waste of time, in his personal opinion; to invoke a courtship was to invoke sometimes _years_ of being under the close surveillance of family, and a seer that could see straight through you. Chaperones, never being alone with your intended, your every step watched with critical eyes, and for _what_? Honestly, he'd been avoiding any and all declarations and intent down to an art; he had books. He had books and he could deal with a little bit of loneliness, because loneliness provided him privacy, it provided him peace.

It was already unpleasant dealing with the leer's he received when in public, pushing away wandering hands and trying to come off as cold as possible when someone new sauntered up, thinking they could talk in perfect circles around him until he fell into their bed.

Revyn wasn't blind to the implication his kin had in Nordic land.

What an arguably sexually oppressive culture did to many when they eventually escaped that rule; how they let loose so fervently they created a culture around it that traveled to his doorstep. The Nords that often called him an Imperial spy were the same people that wanted him on his knees, wanted to hear their names on his mouth and fuck him until he was cross-eyed and he _hated_ it. Insult the length of his ears while their fingers twitched to run along them to see if they're as sensitive as they've heard, watching his drinks with a critical eye whenever he was out when someone was being particularly vile towards him, because it was always the ones demanding he go back to his homeland that often attempts to talk him into their bed.

Dressing in unflattering clothes did little to help, baggy pants didn't keep hands from slipping to grab the base of his rear _very_ intimately that often led to someone getting a bruise or busted lip. It didn't help that the guards here did not care if he was defending himself, and the fine was always more than he could afford.

Ambarys always insisted it wasn't so bad because Revyn had yet to be thrown in a cell for a night due to the amount of damage he's caused, but Ambarys wasn't _bothered_ to such a degree and Revyn wasn't fully sure why it kept happening to him specifically. What about him made him such an easier target? What was he doing wrong? Ambarys liked to muse it was because Revyn had an easy face to look at; commenting about how clean and sharp he kept himself, his teeth were straight, and when he smiled it reached his eyes unlike some.

Revyn thought those were stupid reasons, as none of the above listed are things he either can change or would willingly change and so he put up with it. Paying his tab at the Cornerclub and avoiding the lull in the conversation, because another drink would give him a headache and he wasn't really in the mood to be around anyone anymore.

Not when he wasn't blind to the sort of looks Ambarys was ought to give him too.

Revyn didn't think about the ramifications of such practices as it applied to himself rather than others. His confidence in his self-discipline was damning, and it would eventually lead him to ruin. That ruin, however, would not be happening today, so he opted not to mull on it further.

He _did_ however realize far too late that he should have stayed home instead of attempting to meet up with Idesa by the market, one unfortunately groggy Tirdas morning. New fruit shipments came in, and Idesa always claimed he had a good eye for quality and needed him there so she didn't get swindled; while Revyn thought that was rather foolish because, well, he _raised_ her, she knows quality when she sees it, he still took the minor time they had left these days and always came when she beckoned.

It was cold and snowy, a thick grey settled over the city like a fog that smelled of industrial smoke and mossy stone as he began his trek. Hands buried in his coat pockets as the wind was rather biting, trying to keep his head down as he jogged briefly towards the front alleys that led wide to the main roads. With the war efforts building each day, so did the foot traffic in this city, and today would be no exception as he stepped out into the main plaza, noting wearily the numerous soldiers marching in thick orderly lines from the entrance to the palace. Marching rows stepping along time-worn streets, and he couldn't shake that something was distinctly wrong at the sight of so many Stormcloaks festering in one place.

Revyn didn't get involved with keeping up with the war, but for so many soldiers to be stationed here was worrisome. He ignored his nervousness at trying to slip through a crowd like this, but figured if Idesa was at the other end, he didn't like leaving her alone to deal with anything of this scale on her own. 

He tried to avoid looking anyone in the eyes, keeping his head ducked, noting tents all set up running down the length of the main Avenue, little bonfires going with troops surrounding the area like a swarm.

What was going on?

He should have been watching his step, head turned as he examined a particularly large group walking out from the palace plaza where the crossroads between the upper and lower streets connected, and as a result slammed into someone, stumbling over his feet as quick hands gripped his arms with an angry shout.

Revyn pulled back fast, looking at the line of soldiers marching startled as the one he bumped into snarled at him.

"Watch your step, _elf_." Revyn quickly tried to back up, an apology slipping past his lips, but another soldier snagged his arm before he could get far.

"Where you goin', grey skin?" the dunmer looked over the second soldier wearily, the answer trapped in his throat when the first ran his hand down his side, causing Revyn to recoil when the first interjected throatily.

"Back to our tent, if the way he was flingin' himself at us said much."

" _No, I_ -"

"He's already shakin," the second one snorted, "we should hurry back then, if he's so impatient."

Revyn attempted to yank his arm free, "There's been a misunderstanding, I tripped-"

"Uh huh, and you can trip your way into our-"

"There you are darlin', I've been looking for you everywhere."

The soldiers snapped to attention, hands dropping from the dunmer who's heart was racing a mile a minute and who quickly stepped back with a weak breath. He looked up at the voice just beyond his shoulder, feeling a hand connect with his hip to see a..- a very tall someone. Dark armour covering every surface, in thick angular plating, shrouded in dark furs. Revyn looked up expecting eyes, and instead he saw a strange expressionless nordic mask with a hood obscuring any hair. 

Revyn didn't know what to say, feeling panicked and unsure how to proceed, though the masked man felt expectant in some way and Revyn tried to think quickly.

Mouth a little dry, he nodded.

"Yes, ah- I was just looking for you. Having a difficult time navigating, I'm sorry I'm running late."

It was exactly the right thing to say because the figure seemed to chuckle behind all that obscurity, and Revyn felt a lack of danger the more he leaned into it. The hand never left his waist, as the other seemed to incline his head.

"I told you not to worry about that. I have a few things to handle here before tonight, you mind walking with me?"

Revyn nodded, feeling alert, passing off his nervousness with a smile, "you really have to ask?"

The masked figure turned his attention back to the soldiers, addressing them with an air of authority about him and Revyn couldn't tell if he was a Stormcloak general or someone else of equal importance as he said, "You should head back to your tents, there's going to be an inspection soon and your superior isn't going to be happy if you're absent for it."

The two handsy soldiers were silent as they snapped back into line, one clearing his throat before they marched on, pace double what it was before as the hand on Revyns waist pulled him through the chaos until they reached the opposite street. Revyn blinked stupidly at what was happening when he saw the clear path to the market ahead, the foot traffic significantly less dense, but when the hand fell from his side, he turned back to.. to address what had happened, and possibly deal with an entirely different sort of threat, but by the time he built up the brief amount of confidence to do so, the tall figure had already vanished back into the crowd.

Revyn stood there for a long moment, debating if it was worth the pursuit, and he was just.. - no one had ever done that before.

He couldn't think of a single time anyone's stepped in like that; and it took a long moment to recognize that someone had actually _just_ stepped in, and didn't stick around for even a possible thanks. Revyn felt at a strange loss. Confused and curious, Revyn blinked half stupid out into the crowd before glancing back towards the relatively vacant alley he'd been pulled to, seeing the high streets and hearing the faraway calls of the merchants further down the way.

Revyn didn't stay around for very long, holding onto that gratitude for the possibility of ever running into the fellow again, and simply moved on; he had fruits to pick out with his sister.

He was fortunate Idesa happened to be a great deal more aggressive than him, and far nosier too; talking at the stalls kept them busy as she went on to tell him she convinced a soldier that was bothering her that she was riddled with disease, as she was trying to eavesdrop on what in the Divines was happening in this city. She expressed with confusion that it seemed someone ' _born of dragon_ ' had put a hold on the war, due to the resurgence of the reptilian beasts in Skyrim.

"All those troops on the fields had to be brought _somewhere_ at a moments notice, and the Jarl decided his doorstep was the best he could do," though she did not spare the venom in her voice, annoyed as she was, "If I have to convince a whole army I'm too disgusting to bother, I'm going to get _quite_ the reputation."

Revyn didn't mention the friendly stranger as they chatted, and they went as a pair through the rows and thankfully weren't bothered further as they darted free back to the alleys they called home. It was an unfortunate turn of events, that so many Stormcloaks roamed the streets, it made movement through the city a lot more threatening than it was normally. Ambarys offered to go on trips to get groceries with him, so neither had to be alone; travel in pairs, stay in groups, don't drift alone.

Revyn had gotten good at not only locking his front door, but propping a chair under the knob.

Then, of course, news came of a Nord woman who was killed in the night. Stabbed to death with parts of her removed.

If he could reasonably leave this city he would have by now.

The first week of this nonsense had him packing his bags and counting his coin, but his sister is still tied to a contract in city, and won't be able to move freely for months yet, and it forced him stationary. He couldn't leave her behind, he couldn't leave his kin behind, he shouldn't have to abandon his shop that he's struggled to create because of other's influence, where even at its core he simply just did not have the money to escape.

He had nowhere else to go.

So he continued to open shop, continued to travel in groups, and ignore the ever-growing sea of problems that seemed to fill Windhelm at every corner.

After a while, he eventually forgot about the tall masked stranger, forgot about the incident altogether as it meshed with innumerable other contretemps as he charmed his way through another day until he could finally close up shop for the night. Tired and hungry and miserable, Revyn fell into his unfortunate routine of leaving home a few hours to get some air and see a friendly face, slipping off to the Cornerclub with his ledger under his arm to get some work done literally _anywhere_ other than his bed again, only to be greeted with shouting once he stepped inside.

Ambarys behind the counter, face full of rage as Revyn barely sidestepped the oncoming trio of soldiers as they seemed to be leaving. One of them regarded Revyn a long moment but continued on without a word, another one of them muttering as they stepped outside. Revyn squinted at their retreating forms, glancing back to Ambarys confused as he noted the dunmer had his face in his hands, elbows on the counter, breathing rather angrily, and eventually, Revyn approached whatever _that_ was with a sigh.

Ambarys peeked through his fingers, brows narrowed and tense but let his hand fall to the counter with a frown when he noticed Revyn approach.

"Probably not a good day to leave the house, Sadri," Ambarys let his chin fall to his palm, "Soldiers are hunting a killer and apparently all dark elves have made that list."

Revyn groaned, snagging the closest stool as he placed his ledger on the counter, "Right, because we don't have enough problems as is."

"Nords always blame other folks for their own failings. Poor girl was killed on the other side of town, in a city full of more guards than they can count, and they're just embarrassed nobody noticed or that it's clearly one of 'em."

"I didn't hear it was in the upper district," Revyn propped his head on his palm, "and when have you ever known nords to take accountability?"

"Wish they'd start," Ambarys huffed, "I'm beyond fed up with this place. Don't know why I'm here anymore."

"Because where else would you be?"

Ambarys looked Revyn over a long moment, and whatever strain pinched his brows seemed to lessen. He was quiet long enough for Revyn to open his ledger, before saying, "I can think of better places, Sadri."

Revyn glanced up but didn't respond, frowning at the faraway look the other dunmer seemed to be toting.

Ambarys eventually sighed, "You know, I've heard Falkreath is growing as a city."

"I'm sure they are," he replied, thumb dragging down the side of the parchment, pulling a few loose pages free to check his notes, "You thinking about going?"

"I was thinkin' more like.. well, uhm," Ambarys seemed to chew on the inside of his cheek, "well, uh obviously I'm still saving to head back to Morrowind when all this is said and done. It wouldn't be to settle for very long, but uh-"

"Please speak clearly Ambarys. If you want to leave that's perfectly reasonable." Revyn crossed his legs at the ankle, hooking them under the stool, "I know you've been thinking of home since the Red Year."

"And you haven't?"

Revyn propped his chin, regarding the dunmer a long moment. "I feel like we've discussed this in the past." he hummed, "I was barely an adult when the Red Year happened. I've been living in Skyrim so much longer than I ever did in Morrowind, and while that'll always be home I don't see myself ever going back."

"Revyn-"

"Look, I'm not going to be treated like an Outlander because of any confusion I might face confusing Nord laws and Dunmer rules. It's going to happen, and you know home is unforgiving." Revyn twisted his uninked quill, bouncing the feather Ambarys direction, "You were well into adulthood when that whole mess happened."

"That is still almost twenty or so years of-"

"Ah yes, _almost twenty_ ," Revyn replied sardonically, "I was _such_ a seasoned adult. Grew up cushy and sheltered, is what it was. The easiest years of my life, only to be thrown into extreme Nord culture where I've stayed for decades. I wouldn't do well in Morrowind at this rate. Even _you_ get on me for any perceived nordic behaviour I've accidentally adopted. Could you even imagine what trying to explain that away to someone there would be like?"

"You wouldn't have to do that _alone_ , Revyn."

"Then who? Idesa? Idesa was _eight_ when we came here. It was a group effort to keep the culture with her, and she's-"

"No, I meant like, _me_."

Revyn paused, confused. "I guess that makes more sense than Idesa but I still don't-"

"Hear me out," Ambarys leaned on the counter a bit, "Windhelm is an awful city to rot in. We can leave, move shop, save money in a better city-"

"We?" Revyn chuckled, taken aback, "Now aren't _you_ being direct."

There was a bit of heat in Ambarys cheeks, but there was determination in his eyes, "I jus'.. I jus' think we could thrive elsewhere. You're too good for this place, you're too smart and forgiving and it's _lost_ on the nords here. You make more revenue than half the stands in the market combined. The Jarl would be lost if your business up and left."

"Ah, so we should run away together for _practical_ reasons, yes?"

"Preferably before guards knock on your door and attempt to arrest you for murders you didn't do." Ambarys shifted, "You live alone, Revyn. I have an alibi."

Revyn rolled his eyes, unbothered, "They can't arrest without probable cause-"

"Yeah, and that 'probable cause' is that you're a grey skin. Please don't be dense."

Revyn stopped, uncomfortable. "Wait-"

"Those guards were in here asking a lot of questions about the folks here. I didn't say much but they were interested in the 'recluse dark elf' next door. Said some.. things. Kicked 'em out. I don't really want you to get mixed up in this."

"What was said?" Revyn asked, somewhat startled, but Ambarys shifted. He frowned, uncomfortable, "Well don't get all quiet _now_ , what-"

"I don't think they think you did it as much as they just want a scapegoat." Ambarys looked frustrated towards the club's entrance, "I jus- look, you can stay here if you want."

Revyn closed his ledger, "These worries sound a lot more serious than you're letting on."

"I don't like thinking what would happen to you-"

" _Happen_ to me? Ambarys what are you not saying-"

"I'm saying Nords are a filthy bane _and_ they're cowards. I honestly just want you to pack your things and come stay with me for.. well for at least until this all blows over. If you choose to stay longer, of course, is your-"

"Ambarys your flirting right now could not be at a more weird time."

Ambarys sighed, grabbing the rag tucked into his belt, instinctively moving to wipe down the already-clean counter in front of him to have something to do with his hands. "I just want you to know that I want- that you can always come here if you don't feel safe at home. Even after this blows over. I consider you a close friend-" when Revyn snorted, Ambarys leveled him a look, "I'll say it if you want me to Revyn because I care about you a great deal, but you're right about this being a weird time for announcements."

"If you say it you'd have to invoke it and this isn't the time or the place,"

"I could just invoke and not give you a choice in the matter."

"Only if you want me to make your life absolutely miserable," Revyn snapped, "Don't talk like that."

"You could only be mad for so long," Ambarys eyed him, "and I'd do it only if I felt it necessary."

"Necessary to _force_ a _courtship_?" Revyn snapped in agitation, incredulous, "glad to know you consider my thoughts on the matter moot compared to your wants."

"That's not what I-"

"Sure," Revyn pushed from his seat, "I'm heading home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, Revyn-"

Revyn already had his ledger under his arm, frustrated that he got no work done and how quickly being here made him feel sour but he was already walking away when Ambarys attempted to follow.

Revyn reached the door with a quick, " _Goodnight_ Ambarys." but the corner club owner snagged his arm quickly before he could step out. He spun Revyn back just enough to force the dunmer to face him, to which he did with an annoyed scowl.

Ambarys inhaled sharply, leveling a look at his friend, "I'm _just_ worried about your safety."

"I have a sister for that, I don't need it from you."

"Sure, and you could have a partner be worried too."

Revyn tugged his arm away, "I _don't_ need a partner."

"Oh please," Ambarys bemoaned, almost condescending, "You've a career, a good head on your shoulders. You're in the prime of your life where you could be settled down with someone, and it's _ridiculous_ that you won't just realize I could make you a very happy elf."

"I'm _so_ glad you decided that for me, I'm so foolish and clearly couldn't decide that for myself. My mistake, I see the light now."

"That's not what I meant-"

"It's not?" he snapped, "I only came here so I could get some work done and I'm sick of being home all the time. Can you keep it together and stop making your feelings my problem? I don't have the time to deal with this."

Ambarys stepped forward with a sigh, "And when would you have the time?"

"Never. What about that do you not understand? I don't have time for a relationship, for- for flimsy veiled excuses for someone to get their hands on me. It's pathetic. I'm not going to agree to a courtship, just let it go."

"I just want to understand why-"

"I'm busy! I don't want to! Can that be enough?" Revyn stepped back towards the door, thankful they seemed to be mostly alone, "Courtships are long and convoluted and expensive and _invasive_ and I- I'm not interested. This is not the first time we've gone through this, but can it please be the last so you can move on and let me be around you in peace?"

Ambarys ran a frustrated hand down his face, letting it fall to his side with a huff, "You know I can't do that."

"Then I'm going home and I'll see be seeing you."

"Revyn-"

"Oh be quiet, I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night."

Revyn stepped out, hearing Ambarys groan behind him before the door clicked shut behind him. "Goodnight, Sadri."

Revyn sighed mutely, fingers drumming over his ledger in annoyance; fumbling with the key to his shops front entrance, he slammed the door behind him in with an angry huff. He dropped his ledger against his rickety table by the cooking spit, mumbling angrily under his breath as he finally settled in, unsatisfied. He had numbers to fix and notes to fill in as he added onto his mental list of all the reasons he wanted to leave all over again.

He just wanted these conversation's to stop.

Once his ledger was fixed up and his notes triple checked, he crawled into bed with a chip on his shoulder and that same unfinished doggy-eared book under his arm.

Days passed.

Their relationship, of course, didn't stay strained, because at the end of the day they were friends for a reason, and at least Ambarys didn't bring it up again. Went back to companionable silences and Revyn back to pretending nothing was ever said between them as they discussed where the world was coming to.

Mass dead along the countryside, an eruption at the college miles from there, people being targetted and murdered in the streets, as the war was at an aggravated halt and the soldiers were growing restless. Talk of the return of a nordic legend that is orchestrating the saving of Tamriel, with Revyn fully aware of the possibility that the world may be destroyed, and yet continue business as usual despite this.

Of some great masked hero with a voice that could cut through steel, and Revyn couldn't stop thinking about that strange tall fellow that helped him all those weeks ago.

Wondering if it was just a coincidence.

Revyn buried those thoughts in favour of more practical pursuits; focus on his shop, and hope that whoever it was and whatever they are doing, that they do their job and do it correctly, and guarantee that there will be another tomorrow.

Another girl was was discovered murdered the following morning as rumour reached his shop, checking in with Idesa in worry but thankful to find her safe. She was distraught when he came to her door, and it was apparent it was someone she knew.

Soldiers marched night after night through the Grey-Quarter and nothing got better.

From the distant mountains, he could hear the bellowing from those beasts, could hear the flap of heavy wings echo through the thicket and pierce the air around it, and he slept every night terrified his life would go up in flame. Fell asleep nervous with steps thudding just beyond his walls, uneasy as cold wind whispered through the cracks in the failing foundation of this place.

He carried a dagger on his person every time he left home, tightened his belt and slept with his shoes on.

Yet, he couldn't hide or wait this out. Not when there are too many unknowns, not when it's unclear if the Dragonborn is even capable of what is being asked of them. The dragon menace, the war stilted on a truce that's made his home a dangerous place to wander; winter approaching at a rapid pace that's made this bitter city unbearable. Nightfall bringing their streets into below-freezing temperatures, and Revyn was running through his firewood at an alarming rate; it was just.. nothing seemed to fully help. He bundled up, tried plugging up the cracks in his store's foundation to attempt to keep heat from escaping, but he still had a business to run and people let out so much heat as they came and went. It was just unfortunate when he closed up for the night to realize he had about three logs left and needed to gather more if he didn't want to freeze to death overnight.

It was closing in on nightfall rapidly as he bundled up quickly, pulling his overcoat tight against his middle.

He was careful to leave before it was too dark, dagger in waistband as he slipped out in the chilly evening. The sky above was darkening and cloudy, though somewhere far in the distant mountains the clouds were a rich red as he locked up his shop firmly behind him, checking the knob twice before being certain he was safe to hurry off. Glancing down the alley, he saw a few dunmer down the way talking quietly amongst themselves, before he slipped down the alley towards the main roads.

Revyn went over the plan on how to deal with getting by unnoticed as best he could. Tapping the grip of his dagger as he hunched his shoulders forward, keeping his head ducked and expression cold as he stepped on with purpose. He didn't want bothered and he didn't know how else to make it clear as he pushed towards the main street.

There was the impossibly loud sounds of shouts and conversations, noting how lit up the dark stone towards where the encampments were. Firelight from numerous tents and makeshift paths lining the once wide empty streets, as Revyn swallowed down his anxiousness and tried to focus on just passing through.

Eyes darting around, most tents were closed up and there were barely any soldiers walking around other than what seemed to be a handful of generals, noting the thick furs and bear pelts lining their broad shoulders, and a few stragglers still sitting by some open fires between stations, chatting and eating as they were. Most of them were further off, blocking off the path into the front entrance of the Candlehearth Hall, as Revyn tried to map out the easiest path through to avoid as many soldiers as possible, he heard steps walk up behind him.

The lazy scrape of shoe sole against cobblestone and Revyn tried not to look visibly started as he turned his head over to acknowledge whoever was approaching.

"It's a nice night for a walk, do you mind if I join you?"

Revyn looked over the Imperial, noting his dark jacket and how underdressed he looked, though he recognized Calixto with a bit of relief. He never seemed to pay the city dunmer much mind, and was always incredibly polite when he stopped by the shop here and there.

"If you'd like," Revyn replied, turning to face the crowded streets once again, "though if you'd be willing, would you lead the way through? It's awfully busy and I don't see an easy path that won't get in the way of the soldiers."

Calixto chuckled, stepping forward with an easiness about him as he pat Revyn's shoulder. Revyn tried his best not to flinch at the touch, focusing his eyes forward.

"They been giving you trouble?" the imperial began his trek forward and Revyn stayed close beside.

"They've been giving everyone a bit of trouble," Revyn replied sardonic, "I haven't had much luck moving around the city without being stopped at least twelve times."

"Really?" Calixto said, sounding surprised, "they never bothered me any."

Revyn snorts, "ah, figures."

"Besides, there's a killer on the loose, don't you think having so many soldiers on guard is comforting?" Revyn couldn't muffle the scoff, Calixto looking his face over carefully with interest. "Ooh, that's a reaction. Wanna explain?"

"Divines forbid I speak freely in an angry sea of soldiers," Revyn responded, a bit quiet. They glanced around briefly, Revyn picking up his pace a fraction to keep in stride with the museum owner, stepping past a particularly rowdy group telling stories in a wide circle. Calixto didn't seem willing to let it go, looking the dunmer over with a bit of a nudge; Revyn never quite pegged him the gossip, but who was he to say no when it was clear the Imperial was just interested in listening.

"Look, I mean.. no disrespect," Revyn began, but the quirk at the side of Calixto's mouth told him he understood the contrary as Revyn leaned in a bit, speaking privately, "the killings started when they were all already here. More have happened since, all women, and they've done nothing. As of right now I hear they're looking at the Grey Quarter and truthfully I don't think they're competent enough to discover who is doing it."

"Really? The Grey Quarter?" Calixto hummed, confused.

"Seems easier to them to point fingers than do their jobs. To me it looks like its one of them, but they'd never investigate _that_ claim."

Calixto chuckled, looking at the dunmer a bit startled, "Really?"

"Well think about it." Revyn lowered his voice, increasingly aware of their surroundings, "Windhelm was _quiet_ before the soldiers came. Sure, we had some issues here and there, but as soon as all these soldiers settle in for the time, the killings started. We don't have anyone new that's moved in recently enough to be suspicious. It has to be a soldier. Nothing else makes sense."

"Seems a perfect crime," Calixto hummed then, looking around as his hand brushed against the small of Revyn's back, trying to push him forward through a narrow path between tents and didn't seem to take much offense when Revyn mildly swatted it away. "Everyone in the same uniform, most nords have similar build as well. Catch the killer and all he has to do is slip amongst the ranks and he's gone."

"You think they're a man?" Revyn replied a bit thoughtful, "I try not to discount vengeance and ferocity in women."

"I just assumed they're a man, but I don't really know. Most women I know aren't the serial killer type."

Revyn snorted, "you meet many serial killers?"

"I meet a lot of soldiers," the Imperial smiled, "there's a lot of grey area between the two."

Revyn frowned, "I don't know. I might not agree with them, but fighting for your home is honorable."

"Killing numerous people with purpose fills more than one box, I'd argue."

"You're very strange." Revyn tucked his hands into his coat pockets, grateful to see the wide alley that leads to the pile of firewood, hoping the stand was still open as the sky was growing ever darker.

"I like to think I'm practical," Calixto smiled brightly, "I think plenty of people do awful things for good reasons."

"Goodness, I suppose?" the dunmer quirked a brow at him, glancing forward as he picked up on some talking just beyond the street; the market still seemed open, thank the divines. "even still, you have to wonder why these poor women are being targetted. Put's a pit in my stomach I can't shake."

"Yet, you're still walking by yourself in a city with a killer on the loose," and the way Calixto said it made the hairs on the back of Revyn's neck stand on end, and he didn't fully understand why.

"You were walking alone too. Now we're walking together." Revyn replied a bit testily, frowning at the Imperial sharply, who snorted in response, his shoulders relaxed as he eyed the dunmer with a bit of warmth.

"Suppose we are," he hummed, before saying, "why are you walking alone tonight? You seem a bit uncomfortable by the soldiers, and I've noticed the dunmer's down the way have all been walking in pairs as of late. You aren't."

Revyn inclined his head to the stall they were approaching, waving a hand to the elderly man behind as he pulled his coin pouch from his innermost coat pocket.

"Running low on firewood," he responded, doing a quick silent exchange as he set the coin on the counter and the merchant did a recount before going to gather the wood paid for. "Seemed silly to ask for help walking down the street just because it's been a little dangerous. I still have to live, that hasn't changed simply because the world outside my door isn't safe. It wasn't safe to begin with."

"You need help carrying them back?" Revyn shook his head.

"I should be fine, I don't want to inconvenience-"

"It's no trouble!" Calixto waved him off, already grabbing half of the bundled wood and Revyn didn't really know how to stop him and simply grabbed the remaining with a mildly confused ' _thank you_ ' to the merchant, Calixto already turning them around. He seemed almost impatient about something, and it set off warnings in the back of Revyn's consciousness that he couldn't ignore, but also just didn't understand.

"You're being awfully helpful tonight," Revyn shifted his grip, looking towards the onward crowd of soldiers once again with dread as he said, "I doubt the reason you were walking around tonight was to help the first sad sap in your path. Bored?"

"I've been trying to get some exercise in," Calixto tutted, "I sit at home too often. Recently made the choice I had some goals for a body I've been wanting and I wasn't going to get that sitting inside." The imperial glanced back over his shoulders, his eyes flickering towards Revyn's lips, however seemed to glance away when as parted, they closed. Revyn convinced himself quickly he imagined that, or that it was getting too dark and he couldn't actually tell where the imperial was glancing, "Besides, I like the fresh air, and there's so much to look at in this city, seems a shame to waste."

"Well I appreciate your help," Revyn replied, a little slow, tucking his fingers under the rope holding his bundle together; it was only a little heavy, but it was more awkward than anything and he didn't want to seem foolish struggling with it when Calixto wasn't having any trouble. The imperial looked at Revyn's mouth as he spoke, and it made him wonder if he had been doing this the whole time and the dunmer just didn't notice before or if this is a recent development. "Er, is something the matter?"

"Hm?" Calixto cocked his head, "oh not at all, just can't help but notice how clean your smile is."

Revyn almost wanted to refute that he _hadn't_ been smiling but that comment was far too weird for him to process, blinking a bit stupidly as they walked and as he tried to find words to say. Calixto either didn't care how that sounded or didn't notice, and continued on; "Very straight teeth, very well taken care of. Lovely sharp canines too," he smiled, a bright toothy thing, "my sister had lovely teeth, back in the day. Much sharper than my own, very pronounced canines, much like yours."

Revyn instinctively dragged his tongue against the back of his teeth, mouth closed when he said, a tad uncomfortably, "ah, thank you? I suppose?"

"Happy to say it because it's true, Sadri," he paused then, before saying, "Mind if I ask you something a bit personal-"

A voice called from someplace close behind, Revyn visibly startling a bit while Calixto sighed, annoyed. Revyn glanced over his shoulder to see a tall figure approach from the nearby alley that cut towards the graveyard, something in their fist as long legs sauntered forward; Revyn faintly recognized the mask.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but you are Calixto Corrium, correct?" Revyn realized he somewhat recognized the voice as well. Calixto stood up a little straighter, turning around a lot more fully to face the stranger, eying him kindly but curiously.

"The very same, what can I help you with?"

The masked figure raised his fist forward, his fingers falling open to reveal a very strange looking amulet, though Revyn thought it a bit impolite to try and get a better look from where he was standing.

"I was told you knew a thing or two about oddities. Do you know anything about this Amulet?"

"Now where did you come across a thing like that?" the Imperial hummed, looking close to simply reaching out to hold it but stopped himself short when the masked one pulled back a fraction.

"Hardly matters," the figure replied, and Revyn noted a low drawl on his voice, "What is it?"

Calixto pressed his lips together, his eyes darting a moment between the mask and the Amulet, his face a bit still before focusing on the item. "Let me see..- ah, yes." he inhaled, glancing the little thing over, "This is the Wheelstone. It's an heirloom symbol of power in Windhelm. Traditionally it's carried by the court mage." there was a short moment, but oddly enough he came to some sort of internal decision rather quick, grinning up at the masked figure with a lull of his head, "I would..- ah- be interested in acquiring it. If you're willing to part with it, that is. For a piece like this, I could pay..- 500 gold?"

The tall figure pulled the Amulet back, examining it a long moment in silence. "An heirloom? Then shouldn't the court mage have it?"

Calixto scoffed, "Wuunferth? _Bah_. It's purely ceremonial, and he has no use for it. Besides, I wouldn't want to be the one to give it to him. Gives me the creeps." his voice lowered an octave, private, as he said, "They say he dabbles in necromancy."

"Interesting," the figure hummed, before holding the Amulet forward, "all yours then."

Calixto went to reach for his pouch but the masked figure waved him off, "no charge. It's just a trinket."

The Imperial looked at him, a little wild-eyed, "Really? Are you sure?"

The tall figure held his hand out and dropped the item, which Calixto caught with little trouble. He seemed to pause then, and with a sigh turned to Revyn.

"I hate to cut this short, but I need to hurry home. Can you carry this on your own?"

"Well of cour-"

"I can help," the tall figured interrupted, "I'm heading down to the Grey Quarter anyways if it makes any difference."

"Er- I hate to impose-" Revyn began, but Calixto was already handing the firewood to the masked figure in haste. The imperial waved a short goodbye, before darting off towards the crowd of soldiers without another word. Revyn stood, feeling impossibly awkward when his new apparent companion stepped up by his side, firewood in arm and looking down towards the dunmer expectantly. Revyn shifted, looking towards the sea of soldiers before sighing, resigned to this weird fate of mostly strangers at his hip. "Would you lead the way through, then?"

"Gladly." the masked figure didn't reach down, didn't press his hands anywhere to lead the dunmer forward, and for at least that, Revyn felt grateful. They walked silently through the mass of Stormcloaks, and Revyn wasn't blind to the fact that most soldiers that might have been in the way, took in the sight of the masked figure before stepping aside quickly. It reminded Revyn of something.

"You're the same fellow from before that helped me with the soldiers, aren't you?" he said, picking up the pace a fraction to keep up with the masked figures longer strides. The tall one turned his head faintly to face Revyn's direction, and despite the strange eye slits in the mask, Revyn received the feeling of being glanced at regardless; he didn't seem to respond either way, and either he simply doesn't remember doing it, or he didn't think it was worth a response.

Revyn didn't relent, "well, either way, if it was you, I didn't have a chance to thank you before you ran off. I don't like thinking how long it would have taken for them to either get bored or if they were ever going to be. I've gotten in enough trouble getting into fights over the last few weeks and I'm sure attempting to deck a Stormcloak soldier in _Windhelm_ would not have gone over well."

While Revyn wasn't trying to be particularly funny, because it was true, it still seemed to startle a pleasantly loud laugh from his tall walking companion; he wasn't sure why it made him feel as satisfied as it did, a faint smile pulling at his own mouth as they finally slipped through the crowd to the far alley that dipped towards the Grey Quarter.

He didn't expect a response, but received one anyway, "I'm just glad you didn't get hurt," the figure replied, slowing his pace enough to walk side by side, "when I first came to Windhelm, there was a group of Nords harassing a dunmer by the entrance. I didn't get there quickly enough before they dispersed, and she was fortunately unharmed, but some things were said. I ah-" his head turned forward, "it's made me a lot more aware of my surroundings here. I'd not seen anything get physical like that, or.. use that sort of language."

"Yes well, they're all vulgar," Revyn eyed him a moment, "I suppose that also answers my question on whether or not you were a Stormcloak."

The other snorted, "Definitely not," they approached the nearby alley, "I admit to thinking about it in the past, due to selfish reasons before realizing they were a bunch of ethno-nationalists. It soured their cause for me."

"Selfish reasons?" Revyn asked, noting his storefront rapidly approaching but not at all feeling done with this conversation as he fished out his key.

"That's a very long story, and it seems to me we're about to your destination, yes?"

"Hard not to be," Revyn gestured forward, "if you'd be willing to wait out here a moment, I can grab some coin and pay you for your trouble-"

"That's not necessary-"

"Oh please," Revyn looked at him pointedly, "I won't have someone doing free labour for me. It's no trouble at all and.. well, besides. Take it as a thank you, and maybe incentive to come back some time."

"You warmed up to me rather quick-"

"I'm a _merchant_ , not _interested_." Revyn replied bemused, "this is a store, and you are a potential customer if I haven't scared you away."

His walking companion chuckled, "ah, well that makes a bit more sense. Does the store have a name?"

"Sadri's Used Wares," Revyn replied, "it's a general goods store, I buy and sell just about anything. I'm open from 8 to 8 if you ever want to stop by and see what I'm selling."

"I think I might," Revyn took the bundle of wood from his arms when they reached the door, slotting his key in, "I assume you're Sadri?"

"Last name, yes." he paused unlocking to glance up at the masked figure a moment, "I hate to be presumptuous, but are you the Dragonborn?"

He inclined his head, and Revyn had vacantly noticed how his movements were smooth but controlled. The dunmer felt particularly watched in this moment before the other gave a short nod.

"What gave it away?" and there was obvious humour there, but its difficult to read when Revyn couldn't actually get a read on his body language. He pointed at the Dragonborn's - _and fortunately, it was the Dragonborn and his question didn't come off as silly_ \- face.

"Tall, mysterious, masked fellow fits the description. Though it makes me wonder what the Dragonborn is doing here rather than off fighting dragons."

There was a kind snort, and then, "Jarl in Whiterun has to reassemble an old dragon trap in his hold. Its been rusted out and falling apart for years, as they assumed the dragon threat over."

Revyn looked him over thoughtfully, "sounds awfully complicated."

"To reassemble a trap?"

"No, but rather that you need one at all." Revyn glanced back towards his door, frowning. It was getting cold, but he wasn't quite ready to walk in. "You are under no obligation to discuss this with me. But you're doing everyone an immense favour.. erm," he pressed his lips together, "I assume you have a name."

"I do indeed have a name." Revyn couldn't help but notice how lightly and amused he sounded, "as most folks do."

"Ah, but I assume I'm not to know it then?"

"Well I was only given your last," the Dragonborn replied, "Last-Name-Sadri, and I don't suppose you think it wouldn't be very foolish of me to go off identifying myself, now do you?"

"It's Revyn."

"Pardon?"

"Revyn," the key was still in the door when he reached his hand out, setting the firewood by the doorframe as he did. "My name is Revyn Sadri, and while I don't expect a name back its been impolite to hold a conversation like this and not introduce myself."

The figure accepted his hand, and whether or not the Dragonborn was aware of this or it was entirely on purpose, he gave part of himself away by not shaking Revyn's hand, but rather clasping and releasing.

It was either intentional because Revyn is a mer, or perhaps the great Nordic legend wasn't himself a nord; and that possibility was endlessly fascinating.

"Revyn," the Dragonborn rolled the name in his mouth almost as if to test it out, "I hope you understand my need for secrecy is by no means personal." Revyn felt a bit disappointed, but the figure continued after a brief deliberate pause, with: " _However,_ I do respond to Gal, and you're free to use that as you see fit."

"Gal?" Revyn smiled, testing the name himself before inclining his own head, "It's nice to meet you, Gal."

A soft pause, then, "Pleasures all mine."

Revyn wasn't sure why he felt like extending this conversation any more than he already has, only briefly internally admonishing himself for wasting enough of his short-lived companion's time before quickly gathering up his firewood. Readjusting his hold on the bundle once his door was unlocked, "I'll be right back."

Revyn carefully pulled his things inside, closing the door behind him as he darted to his backroom, dropping the firewood by the cooking spit with a huff; he brushed the dirt and leftover wood chippings from his palms as he slipped back behind his merchant counter. He wasn't doing poorly money-wise at the moment, and could easily spare 200 or so gold pieces for both this stranger's kindness and his help, doing a quick count and grabbing a spare little pouch to dump it all in before heading back outside.

He pushed the door aside, words on his lips that died when nobody was there.

Revyn glanced down the alley and towards the main street of the Grey Quarter but saw nobody; he sighed through his nose, 'figures', before slipping back inside, locking the door firmly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revyn "I don't deal in stolen goods but I _will_ hire someone to break into someone's house" Sadri is probably fine with getting into a few fights and that's my argument.
> 
> NOTE: I am going to put this warning here: _none_ of my stories will contain explicit or even mentioned/implied sexual ass*ult. I have been asked due to the nature of some of my writing, and due to the nature of a great deal of Skyrim fics I've seen; it will never go so far, and I am not comfortable with that content (writing or reading it) so hopefully this clears some things up. I'm here to write some dumb idiots falling in love and that's the content I'm here for, but if anything comes off strangely, always feel free to ask if you're worried about something of that nature. It is never my intent to catch anyone off guard, and I try to tag as explicitly and accurately as possible. Thank you SO much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! I'm trying to write this alongside the "ode to happy endings" fic to lighten things up, so thank you again, and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: G o d, so I finally took a day to fully script out this fic and not ONLY is it much _hornier_ than I originally anticipated (I won't be tagging it past this point, specifically because this fic is primarily the development of a relationship and Revyn exploring himself so I will just hope yall know that this fic will contain it), it's also much longer than I intended. I made like 25 pages of detailed notes and I'm very excited to work through this. The goal is to try and have an update every week if not every other week depending on what my work schedule ends up being; thank you all so much for your patience and thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> As an aside: some chapters will be significantly shorter than others, but that way I can get more posted and not info dump all in one spot as much as I can help it. It won't be fully like Wanderlust where it was practically 15,000 words per chapter, but I'll make sure what's there is worth reading. I just know I get overwhelmed when tackling chapters of that length which slows down my writing process, so I hope that this is okay! I hope you enjoy!

A breathy whine escaped into the quiet of the room, pressing his hand hard against his mouth to muffle his gasps as he palmed himself through his trousers.

Revyn was still half-asleep, roused by a.. a particularly explicit fantasy in his sleep. His skin felt tacky, like invisible hands were rubbing along just beneath the surface, digging and pressing, an ache building just below his belt to the point he felt as though his very skin was crawling. He couldn't think straight, wasn't fully convinced he had even woken up as he tried to reposition himself under his covers, unsure if he was trying to make it stop or chase that feeling again. Nails seeking along his thighs, teeth dragging against his jaw, where lips pressed against his throat until he was unpleasantly greeted with a tightness that was comparatively _very_ real; trying to dislodge each intrusive thought after the next rather helplessly.

He had tried to flip on his belly when he first stirred awake, attempting to push the impressions back to his subconscious in some deluded attempt and hope that they would die there, but his mistake became evident when he was greeted with friction, pressed up against his mattress as he choked out a rather pitiful sound against his pillow. Shocked at himself by how intently his belly was filled with such immodest need, shakily pushing himself over again to land onto his back, breath short and he lay almost trapped, as he would later blame a lack of cognizant thought in a still sleep driven state, for giving in as quickly as he did.

He could still clearly visualize the shape of them, feel the echo of their imaginary lips grazing his cheek, what their tongue felt like against his throat; a shuddering breath taken from his lungs as his palm tried to knead the pressure away. Dreaming of a warm mouth dragging down his chest, kissing his collar with hands against his nape, silent breath racing down his thighs as he fumbled with pushing his waistband off his hips.

Face hot and sheets feeling itchy against exposed skin, Revyn kicked a bit uselessly against his covers as the chill of the room crept where his shirt was shoved up, ghosting along neglected bare thighs that simply won't be given attention; goosebumps trailing across flushed skin as he pulled his knees up a fraction, letting his legs fall apart before dragging his tongue against the palm of his hand.

An uncomfortable repetition of _I need this, I need this, I need this_ as he slipped his grasp between his legs.

Revyn kept his eyes firmly shut as blunt fingernails scraped against the trail of dark hair at the lowest of his midriff, dragging his other hand through his hair until his palm made contact, rubbing roughly down along his arousal. Revyn stifled a whimper, lower lip caught between teeth, wrapping around himself as his hip jerks, pressing his free hand harshly against his mouth to keep quiet.

He wasn't the most familiar with his own body; wasn't the sort to often indulge in pleasuring himself, so when the need arose, it often arose with a ferocity and intensity he struggled with. He could possibly count as many times he's done this on one hand and still have fingers to spare, which made him all the more self-conscious in how noisy he was being, paranoid at being caught despite living entirely alone; he always felt that such things could be seen on his skin, like anyone could tell if they looked at him, and that fear stayed his hands - he doesn't know what felt so different now. 

Felt different as he thoughtlessly wondered about the mysterious figure in his dreams, the amorphous body of someone and nobody at all, feeling like he knew them and yet couldn't quite reach them as he picked up a rhythm that had him lax against his covers. Unable to stop replaying the scenario over and over again until the dream took the shape of fingers in his mouth; distinctly thicker than his own, as he shakily, thoughtlessly, lessened the grip over his mouth, fingers resting over his lips as his palm hovered over his chin. The figure did not quite have a tangible voice as they had embodied instruction, and he didn't know what had been quite in his dream anymore and what bled into him simply fantasizing; he tapped the tips of his index and middle against his lower lip, it took very little time following for his need to eventually outweigh his embarrassment, tongue flickering out as he pressed them past his teeth.

Exhaling, he opened his jaw further until his middle two knuckles bumped the front of his teeth, canines grazing his forefinger as he sloppily dragged his tongue over the digits.

Self-abusing, hips stuttering when he hiked his legs a little higher, bringing his knees up as he used one of his feet to catch the seat of his night pants, kicking them as low as he could give himself time to think on it. Pooling mostly at the ankles, blanket catching on one of his legs but he didn't have it in him to pay it much mind.

The mantra of need and want was so loud with every vague impression of hands grasping at him; recounting a silhouette, grabbing at his hips, his thighs, blunt nails digging against his backside, fingers down his throat, forcing apart trembling legs to..- to-

Revyn pulled his fingers free of his mouth impatiently, taking a thin silvery trail of saliva with it.

His breathing grew worse, ragged and uneven, trying to mimic the feeling as he slipped his hand between his legs, trailing down until unsteady hands pressed against him.

Revyn wasn't thinking, panting as he pressed one finger down to the knuckle. Typical cogitation replaced with rapid-fire introspection of ' _what am I doing what am I doing what am I-_ ' drowned out by a sharp moan that muffled his thoughts into useless puddles. Pleasure building in the pit of his belly as he rocked back against his own hand until it wasn't enough anymore, his middle finger pressing against him and being fully unable to stop the whine when it still wasn't quite what he needed.

He tried so hard to make it work regardless.

Tried to make it work until thoughts of hands on him consumed him, letting himself privately ache for fingers in his hair and teeth against the length of his ears, outrageously aroused by thoughts of a mouth pressing kisses along his thighs as he desperately clung to thoughts of just _being_ touched as the pressure steadily built. He tried to keep the impression of that someone as impersonal as possible, as unattached to a real person by any shape or capacity, but..- his mind wandered from obscured hands to leather-clad; wrists gauntleted as he was reminded of kind hands against his waist, leading him away. His hand stuttered only a moment before picking up.

Revyn tried shaking it away, focusing on anonymity that morphed from nothing to something the harder he tried to ignore it. Vacant kisses obscured by a mask, silent encouragement taking on a slow drawl, and the more disorganized his thoughts became the more frustrated _he_ became. It wasn't enough, disoriented by need and confused impressions of someone _real_ until he stopped altogether. Irritation bubbled to the surface, breathing hard as he pulled his hands back, unfinished, unable to finish, blinking confused and startled towards the ceiling of his empty room.

His heart was pounding in his chest, pushing himself up to his elbows, looking down at himself in dull disgust as shame coloured his cheeks. What was he thinking? _Who_ was he even thinking about? Who was that? The more he tried to grasp at what intrusive and sudden thoughts that had muddled him, he returned with empty hands and more questions than he cared to deal with this early in the morning.

Revyn frowned, swinging his legs off his bed, his hands fell to his lap, very awake now, taking a few minutes to catch his breath and regain control of himself. Once he was sure his legs weren't simply going to give out if he walked, he slipped out of bed with a sigh, kicking off what clothing was still pooled around his ankles, pulling his shirt off of his body to drop in the nearby laundry basket because he felt vile and decided he would particularly desire a bath than try and go back to sleep to chase dreams that made him do a thing like _that_. 

Revyn almost reached out for his lamp before realizing his hands were filthy, groaning as he squinted in the pitch black of his room. A reminder of why these sorts of things were best left undone and that he shouldn't have allowed himself to slip like that. He used the back of his hands to bump walls as he carefully walked his way towards his washroom, finding his sink and washing his hands clean of any traces of his unfortunate attempt at self-exploration, wishing he had hot running water for once instead of having to boil buckets as all his faucets run cold. He spent time wiping down his arms with a rag, trying to scrape away the sweaty tackiness that's clung to his skin like a layer all its own, sitting on the lip of his tub as he dragged the rag between his thighs.

Feeling no cleaner as he slips his way back to bed in the dark, falling onto his semi flattened pillow face first, pulling his covers around him tightly.

Sleep did not come, not before the sun peeked through his high frost-damaged windows. He watched the grey sunrays slip up along his stone walls, leaving ghastly shadows in their wake, before forcing himself numb from his bed, starting his day with the hopeful certainty that at least things could not get any worse.

xxx

Revyn dropped the ring onto the other's palm, humiliation colouring his cheeks.

"I'll take care of it," and somehow he was able to convey so much expression despite the mask that covered his face, with each minor incline and tilt of his head. Pocketing the little piece of jewelry, Revyn felt distinctly foolish and wholly embarrassed, both as a person and _honest_ pawnbroker, that his first official interaction with the _Dragonborn_ as a customer ended in him handing off stolen goods, like some unpracticed and pitiful excuse of an accidental fence. He wished he could will away the heat flushing his face, not at all sure what to do with his hands, eventually letting them drop to the counter to keep them from shaking.

Being caught with stolen goods could _ruin_ him.

The guards already regard them as criminals, the taxes are already on the brink of being far too much than he can afford, and of all people, it had to be _Viola Giordano's_ who cheap stolen jewelry ended up in his possession. Of all the trouble he didn't want to get involved in, theft was a rather large one. It's lazy, it could harm his reputation if he's believed to be a fence, and it'll attract all the wrong sort of clientele and he just doesn't have it in him to deal with anything worse than he has already.

 _Goodness_ , he doesn't even know why he felt the need to explain to the Dra- er, rather, to _Gal_ , what had happened. It was just..- his panic had been so malleable and entirely on the surface when he realized what he had done almost as soon as the words had left his mouth. Gal made some corny jab at him at his confidence of all his goods being legitimate and it became impossibly clear something was wrong, and it wasn't as though he could hide it.

Then, on top of his lapse of judgment that robbed him of sleep, on top of realizing he accidentally fenced stolen goods, _on top of_ dealing with the humiliating realization he momentarily touched himself to thoughts of the person before him the night before, he _also_ couldn't even mask the spike of anxiety when all of that hit him all at once. Wouldn't have been so bad if Gal wasn't there to see it, but of _course_ of everyone to see it, it had to be the dragonborn.

He hadn't even really expected to see Gal again after that night he walked him home. After he vanished, Revyn assumed he'd stay that way, which wasn't entirely uncommon for folks avoiding dealing with something, though Revyn has never met a soul who avoided getting _paid_ in that fashion. He worried only briefly that Gal would return with a favour in mind instead, but clearly he must be collecting favours as the ring rests in his pocket and he makes no comment pertaining to their walk home. It only somewhat assuaged his nerves by the disarming way Gal spoke, all warmth and kindness, smile bright on his voice almost as if to compensate for the fact it cannot be seen.

Revyn dropped his face into his palms, elbows on the counter. He felt so tired.

He heard the shuffle of armour, the soft scrape of gauntlets hit the wood of his counter. Revyn sighed.

"I promise this is not business as usual," Revyn ran his palms down his cheeks, willing the embarrassment away, "I'm not normally so careless."

"It happens. Besides, the fact you're trying to right an accidental wrong as soon as you realized it says a lot about your character," and somehow Gal sounded so genuine as he said it, it almost made him feel better. Not entirely, but almost. "I'm sure you also asking me to break into someone's house to return an item rather than take one says something too but I'm not quite sure what to call it."

Revyn ducked his head as a short laugh bubbled up, which he ended in a self admonishing groan, "I'm sure it's nothing good."

"I disagree," Gal pauses a moment, before chuckling, "though I get the feeling this isn't the only problem you're facing."

Revyn frowns, "oh? What gives me away?"

He makes a little gesture towards his own face, "you look exhausted."

"Oh, yes, well-" Revyn straightened up, rubbing his palms against the front of his pants, "it's nothing. Lot of little things piling up. You know how it is."

"Do I?" and Revyn received the rather peculiar feeling that Gal was actually trying to goad him into talking, which was..- nice, in a way. Revyn was, however, usually fairly good about not oversharing with customers; they don't care, and he typically didn't either, and that was normally understood. Made going through transactions quick and easy, simple pleasantries never leaving the pleasant stage, and they were well on their way.

Revyn sighed inwardly, dropping to rest on his elbows against the counter once again; everything about himself felt heavy. He didn't feel fully awake, he's been on edge for weeks at this point due to the serial killer on the loose, the significant influx of Stormcloak soldiers with their particular brand of ethnonationalism and now Revyn's having _dreams_ , as if things weren't already complicated enough. Revyn cleared his throat, realizing he had gone quiet.

"Er- uhm," he sniffed, "I'm- I'm fine. I'm sure you have more important matters to deal with, least of all including mine when you're already doing me quite the favour-"

"I'm often told I'm a very good listener." Gal said then, inclining his head, "and I admit I rather like listening to you speak."

Revyn gave him a short smile, "I'm sure you say that to everyone," he straightened up a bit, brushing back any loose strands of hair as he continued, "some other time I'll regale you all my woes, but for now I think you have a package to deliver."

The Dragonborn nodded, stepping back from the counter with a nod, "Don't worry about a thing, I'll handle this."

He went to leave but Revyn stopped him short; "I mean no disrespect because you are doing me quite the favour, but you stick out like a sore thumb, you know." he made a vague gesture over his head, "I've literally never in my life seen someone quite so tall."

"Never you mind me," and there was just something so _calm_ about his voice that made Revyn want to trust him, despite all the evidence insinuating that this was perhaps a bad idea. "I know how to move unseen if I wish. I'll be back-"

" _Actually_ be back this time," Revyn added a bit prodding, eyeing Gal's gauntleted hand against the doorknob, "You're helping me more than you understand, and I don't feel like that sort of kindness should go unrewarded."

"Your gratitude is reward enough," Gal pushed the door open, a sharp cold wind rushed through as he slipped past; "you owe me nothing for carrying firewood, and walking you home. You don't owe me for fixing a trivial matter such as this either. I'll be back."

The door clicked shut before Revyn could retort, huffing a short-lived irritated breath and feeling strange as he did it.

Revyn let his hands fall to the counter, feeling pointedly worried and mildly anxious about the ring, feeling unwell over a number of things going wrong, and the more he thought about it, the more ill he felt. The weight didn't quite go away, and followed him like a disease as he threw himself into cleaning up his storefront, reorganizing shelves, dusting what little cobwebs survive in this sort of weather. He's wiped down his counters several times over, playing up his kindness as other customers came and went as he whittled away the hours in wait of any news.

It was almost pathetically funny, the more he considered it; This was the _third_ time in a row he's interacted with Gal, and each time he's been increasingly more helpful than the last. Revyn noting he's somehow gotten more and more helpless each time, but found some comfort out of the mess; while he doesn't know exactly what kindness says about him as the Dragonborn or his abilities to end a devourer of worlds, but it at least reaffirms that no matter what comes, he's certainly someone who is going to try.

Either way, the mysterious mostly-stranger, as Revyn was deeming him as a means to at least remind himself that he does not know him (and will not, thinking pointedly towards any future interactions) did not return that night, nor the following.

Revyn continued his day to day, careful about how visibly anxious he may appear, waiting on either a missive about raised taxes due to reported criminal activity or well, literally anything at this point in time; after a few days of nothing and no visible changes in guard activity, either Gal simply did not return the ring, or he did so successfully and simply decided not to tell him. Both were rather rude, actually, but he'd take anything as long as the ring was no longer in his possession, he supposes.

He's had more dreams like the first one, but Revyn had gotten mostly a hold on dealing with the result of them by walking around his shop and, at least once, stepping into an entirely cold bath. He didn't understand what was going on with him, other than he was sick of it happening. He was rather close to the brink of simply seeking out advice from their healer, Taliesin; maybe about getting help with quieting dreams, or perhaps something that would dull him, but he continuously stopped himself short because the humiliation that he's struggling to keep control of his own body was too embarrassing to admit to himself, let alone say out loud to someone else.

But why _now_.

These were issues he faced when he was first hitting puberty; he's a grown adult. Was it stress? Was his body trying to force him to relieve stress? Revyn wasn't sure, but he would hope his body understood that its possible sad attempt to make him feel better, was only making matters worse, as all it was doing was quite literally robbing him hours of sleep each night.

So, he ignored it. Ignored it and continued to ignore whatever it was that was going on, allowing one dull day to drift to the next until he's running out of food and his firewood pile was almost entirely diminished. Eventually, Revyn had to stop neglecting _all_ of his needs and just face the crowds. Clearly he wasn't a wanted man, and he wasn't going to be arrested by the first guard he runs into, finally forcing himself awake at the very crack of dawn before his shop opened, reluctantly dressing, bundling up tightly, dagger strapped against his waist as he wiped what sleep he got from his eyes.

News came not too long ago about another corpse in the upper district, his hand resting on his doorknob. 

Another nord woman was found, her entire hip bone entirely removed from her body, missing her spine and her jaw. All the teeth were left shoved in the back of her throat, and Revyn didn't have the stomach to chance another late night run as he had the previous week.

He just had to remind himself he cannot simply hermit himself because there's danger; Windhelm has always been dangerous, he just needs to be careful.

It felt below freezing when Revyn finally emerged from his storefront, locking up tight behind him as he buried his hands deep into his pockets. His breath puffing in foggy clouds that were quickly carried away by the wind, trying to keep himself buried deep in his overcoat as he jogged down the length of the alley of the Grey Quarter. His pace didn't slow as he darted past groups going through what seemed to be training exercises, glancing towards them only briefly as he rushed down without pause towards the far street; only momentarily stopped by one soldier who asked him what his hours were again and said he was looking for a few items for his kids when he returns home. He seemed thankful enough to find out that Revyn had a few things in stock, which isn't always usual and said their quick goodbyes for now.

Jogging into the market, he was greeted by the warmly familiar calls of the merchants behind the stands; the crowd was a little bigger today, slipping through towards the stands closer to the front, seeing the older gentleman whittling away at a grip sized block of wood when he noticed Revyn's approach. He was a mute man, and Revyn was never told his name, as he put a handful of gold on the counter and the dark-skinned nord nodded, dropping it somewhere under the counter before gathering the wood a little further behind. Revyn glanced around, seeing a small handful of dunmer down the way chatting to what looks to be some sort of sailer, hearing a few vendors speaking over others, noting the exchanges as he heard the thud of wood on the merchant top. He reached for the now secured bundle, doing a quick sign of ' _thank you_ ' with his free hand as he slipped it under his arm, moving further into the square.

He wasn't fully sure what sort of food he was looking for just yet, glancing over a few stalls, overhearing one of the children down the way laughing. The conversations mostly background noise to the sharp chilly wind racing through the narrow streets all leading here. Revyn found an opening towards the fruit stall but was caught a bit off guard when he noticed a tall silhouette by the weapons stand. He briefly thought it best to not intrude, but Niranye had a look in her eye akin to that of a cat about to pounce and decided maybe it'd be a crime not to.

He realized very quickly it was the exact right thing to do when her eyes honed in on him and narrowed, scowling at him something fierce as he approached.

Oh, she must have been almost done then.

" _No_." was loud and clear, and Revyn felt the smile tugging on his lips before he could stop it.

"Hello Niranye, overcharging still?" Gal glanced down by his shoulder, almost as though startled by his sudden appearance, stepping aside only a little to give Revyn room to stand.

" _Hello_ Revyn. Our deal is almost final, go away, he's mine." She rested her elbows on her merchant counter, "I have a business to run just like everyone else."

"As do I," and looked up then at Gal with a nod of greeting, "It's nice to see you again, and I'll have you know I sell what she does but cheaper."

"Go _away_ Sadri."

"Charge normally or I'll be happy to take him."

Niranye pinched the bridge of her nose, giving him a sour look before rolling her eyes with a sigh, clearly put on the spot. " _Fine_ , fine. But if this is about the hired hands at the gates, I'm _sorry_. I didn't realize he'd be so good."

"It's not about that, but glad _you_ brought that up." Revyn crossed his arms, thoughts back to food when he said, "He charmed my _regulars_ away that week. I was worried I wouldn't have enough gold by the time the Tax collector came."

She rubbed her hand down the side of her cheek with a sigh, " _I know_ , I know. Ambarys already gave me an earful." pinching the bridge of her nose, she said, " _Look_ I'll adjust my prices for this fine gentlemen, but that's it."

"Take a mile, give back an inch," Revyn rolled his eyes, taking a step back, "alright. Good morning."

"Good morning," Niranye called back with a noncommital wave, displeased but clearly not going to fight it, pulling up a dagger that Gal must have been looking at, handing him the grip as she rattled off presumably a lower number as Revyn slipped away.

Standing in one spot made him particularly aware of how cold it really was, adjusting his grip on the bound up pile of wood, his mind back to fruits as he returned a wave to one of the other merchants nearby but didn't stop to chat. The fruit stand came up with one other person picking some things up, Revyn catching the owners attention with a little wave and dropped some gold on the counter. She handed him a little wool bag when she noted he didn't have one on him, and he spent a little time sorting through the apples when he heard the scuff of footsteps at his side. Revyn instinctively stepped aside, not really looking at whoever.

"You normally pick fights with rival merchants?" and there was a laugh in his voice when Revyn looked up to see that same Nordic mask as before. Revyn snorted, looking back down at the red apples before grabbing one and checking for bruising.

"Not often. Niranye and I have our differences. I try not to scam if I can avoid it. People tend to stop trusting you when they realize they've been overcharged, and they do often realize it sooner or later." he put the apple back to look at another, glancing up once more, "did she actually lower the price for you?"

"By fifty gold, yes."

" _Fifty_ gold?" Revyn frowned up at him, "don't tell me what you actually paid for it, I'm sure you still paid more than it's worth."

"I didn't end up buying anything," Gal responded, rather simply, "felt I'd rather take my chances looking for a proper dagger elsewhere."

Revyn snorted, delightfully surprised as turned the fruit over in his grip, "Well, the good news is I do sell daggers for reasonable prices, if you ever deem my little shop worthy of returning to, you know."

Gal shifted a bit, crouching alongside the dunmer who bagged the apples before moving on to what berries the woman had available; not much in season unfortunately when Gal said, a bit private; "I took care of what you asked of me, by the way. I haven't had time to head your way in a bit, but things are back where they belong."

Revyn looked him over, almost searchingly, before a grateful smile overcame his face. Pushing back to his feet, relieved as he said, " _Thank you_. That's quite the burden off my shoulders." though pleased, he continued with, "I do wish you would have told me at the shop however, so I could more easily compensate you for your tr-"

"I told you it was no trouble at all," and Gal pushed back to stand as well, facing the dunmer fully, "you don't owe me any favours, I'm happy to help for the sake of helping."

"There has to be something I can do to repay you," Revyn fully turning to face the other as well, momentarily forgetting the food, "I don't much like owing folks, even if they claim strings free."

"I'm happy to accept you stepping in back there as a favour paid-"

"What about dinner?"

Revyn was thankful that Gal had a mask covering his expression because he's not really sure where that came from either. He turned to look back at the stand, reassessing what left he can grab before he's at his limit, before saying, "I make decent desserts." returning a glance in the others direction, "I think if you won't allow me to repay you in gold, perhaps I can repay you with food."

There was a minor raise in Gal's shoulders, like an inhale, before saying, "I- I would like that, actually."

"Good, then, ah- are you busy tonight?"

"Depends, is this still the merchant asking, or the person?"

Revyn snorted, "You're assuming they're separate."

"Are they not?" there was a smile in his voice, as he said, "I think a merchant would insist on paying in coin and be done with it."

"Certainly, a merchant _would_ do that. In case you've forgotten, you hid, _twice_ now, when I've insisted. Gold doesn't work, maybe food will." 

"Getting paid for simple acts of kindness sort of ruins the appeal for me," Gal stepped closer, inclining his head. Revyn had to look up something proper in order to keep their eyes level, or rather, what he assumes is level, increasingly aware of how outrageously tall the other actually was in that moment. "It feels wrong to take money from anyone except those that could possibly buy me outright. Most with that sort of power and money are more often than not undeserving of it, and I'm only willing to drain _their_ pockets."

"Ah, I'm too _poor_ to take payment from, is that it?"

"Not poor, you're just not a reigning monarch readying himself for the chopping block in the next few years."

Revyn blinked at him, bewildered, "I'm sure you saved me from insult, but now I'm more intrigued than anything on why _those_ are your principles."

"Well, I can tell you tonight, as long as the person is asking me."

"I am in fact asking you," Revyn paused, reiterating, " _person_ , yes. The person is asking. I'd like to treat you to dinner and hopefully good company, if you'll allow it that is."

"Looking forward to it, actually." he gave a short little bow, stepping back, and were they really standing that close? Revyn took a step back as well for good measure, now not entirely sure. "I'll see you tonight, then."

"I'll hold you to it," Revyn turned his attention back to the fruits, before saying a little over his shoulder, as Gal seemed to slip away, "I close at 8, come by anytime after then." and accepted the lack of response as response enough. He gathered what was left of the fruits before figuring he ought to simply do a full trip if he's going to be cooking for two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make plans for sexually explicit scenes for a bitch that has a hard time writing sex lmaooo; I'm going to fill up that boning Revyn quota so that there is a variety for all types of folks in a sub-fandom that virtually does not exist - I needed this years ago and I'm adequate enough at writing at this point to provide for those of you who were in my boat so I'm glad to have you here.
> 
> Also: I like to think we see a very condensed version of the cities/homes/world etc. I expand on homes in smaller ways (they have functioning bathrooms, sue me) and so on so that it feels more real to read and experience. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> >>This is the general layout of what I think the uncondensed version of Sadri's Used Wares looks like >> specifically had a stove and a bathroom (you cant bake pies in a pot full of stew and skyrim is Wrong to think we should)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: One of my favourite things is language in fics, so if you see a strange word italicized, it will be translated at the bottom note. Good news! I actually got my job back! Due to the pandemic, I've been unemployed for many months and scraping by, and I really hyper fixated on Skyrim during this time as a way to cope through it. My working won't stop updates from coming, by any means, but I might be a little slower than I really wanted. I want to work on this fic between my 40 hour work weeks, and I want to just ask for patience while I work through these. But because I'm not aiming for length, hopefully this won't be a huge issue. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> As an aside; all things noted about Galvorn are all canon to his character regardless of the fic. What is true about Galvorn's past in this fic is true for the Galvorn of previous fics and any future ones unless specified otherwise (I'm also struggling to not write his full name when doing these chapters like _buddy_ ). I hope you enjoy!!

There were short heavy knocks on his front door barely fifteen minutes after getting home from the market.

Revyn was halfway through brushing his teeth, groceries still sitting out on his counters, as he peeked his head out the bathroom doorway. His hours were posted clearly, and when he didn't hear anything after a moment, assumed they left. He picked up on where he was by his back molars when the knocks came back, only louder this time. Revyn shot a dirty look towards the front, shaking his head and waving his arm in annoyed exasperation as he eventually stormed towards the entryway, because _really_? Can they not read?

The base of his toothbrush sticking from between his teeth as he unlocked the deadbolt, pulling open the door just enough to peek at who was so rudely trying to enter his establishment this early in the morning, only to see Taliesin Darevo at his doorstep with a paper bag in hand. Revyn straightened up, opening the door further.

Taliesin stood tall, eyes obscured by thick goggles with his thick dreaded hair clasped back; he was wearing a dark cloak, a deep red scarf halfway up his face, as he nodded in greeting, holding the bag forward. When Revyn didn't react at first, he smiled, lowering his offering a bit almost as if offering it to a skitterish animal and Revyn felt immediately foolish. Toothbrush still hanging out of his mouth, he looked Taliesin over rather bewildered before finally accepting the bag wordlessly, nodding his uncertain thanks, before the dunmer slipped away. Revyn blankly looked at the spot he had been, before glancing at the healer as he slipped down the alley steps before closing the door, confused.

He examined the blank bag for a few seconds, hand slipping back to his deadbolt before he was stopped by sudden, quick short knocks. Revyn was debating on ignoring it when he heard something scrape inside his outer lock; he made a noise in the back of his throat, brows deeply furrowed as he just opened the unlocked door to see Idesa standing there impatiently, key in the lock.

Idesa startled, "Oh!" before hastily pulling the key out, she straightened up with a smile, "Good morning!" as he snorted in bemusement, grabbing the base of his toothbrush as he stepped away to let her in, who was quick to push her way inside and close the door firmly behind her, hand flipping the lock with practiced ease. 

"Sorry to interrupt _daesohn_ , you're clearly busy-" Revyn made a sound but shook his head, quickly slipping back to the bathroom to at least rinse, Idesa following close behind, " _right_ , well I was hiding behind the alley, and I placed a little slip under the door of Greystone for a medication drop because I was too embarrassed to ask directly, I hope you don't mind I had it sent here instead." 

Revyn made a waving motion, returning to his sink as he glanced at his sister through the reflection, gathering water to rinse both his mouth and brush off with one hand; Idesa tried to snatch the bag from his hand but Revyn moved it quickly out of her reach. She made a loud sigh, knowing where this was going but being unable to refuse a challenge when presented. Revyn was quick to sidestep her second attempt, snagging a rag from his wall to dry his hands, while barely avoiding her almost jumping on his back to get to it.

"You come to my house with _secrets_." Revyn darted out of the bathroom, avoiding one snag after the next, "What in Tamriel would have you too embarrassed to face our healer for, that you would make me face him instead?"

"Nothing bad!" she swore, brows set in determination as she watched him shift, both clearly trying to anticipate what the other might do, "I'm sure Taliesin didn't even think twice about it with you."

"Ah, so nothing terminal," that was a relief, but he moved the package behind him, "but.. not think twice?" Revyn tried thinking to what in the world that meant, when Idesa struck; she dashed forward and they nearly collided before Revyn hastily moved aside, though her arm snagged the front of his shirt, he held the package up high and just a fraction out of her reach. She tried leaping and he was fortunate that she didn't simply attempt to climb him like she would when she was ten, when she groaned loudly. Revyn chuckled, Idesa stepping back with her hands thrown in the air.

"You don't need it!" she cried, though mostly in exasperation than anything else, "I would like my prescription, you oaf!"

" _Excuse me_ , Taliesin sent _me_ the package, and you've made some big mystery of it." he dropped his arms in front of him, shaking the bag, "the fact you're not just telling me what it is, has me very worried, actually."

Idesa pressed her lips together, frowning a fraction. "I- I don't mean to worry you."

Her tone of voice immediately flipped some switch of alarm in Revyn, looking her over quickly. He was trying to tell if she had physical damage in some sense, and she quickly picked up on it, waving her hands a bit in front of her when she said; "I'm not hurt, nothing happened, not even a scraped knee I promise you. I'm okay."

Revyn sort of picked at the package, clearly not believing her. Idesa's tense shoulders slumped a bit, rubbing a tired palm against her cheek when he finally noticed the particularly dark circles under her eyes. "You don't look okay." and at his saying so, she looked back at him like she was on the very sudden verge of fighting tears, and the sudden change had him step forward quickly almost in a panic, "Idesa what-"

"Well don't point it _out_ -" and her voice was shaky as he set the package aside, and the moment he extended his arms to her she moved in immediately. She wrapped her arms tight around his middle, burying her face, as he wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly, completely disarmed as her breathing was wavering, rubbing his hand down the side of her arm with as much comfort as he could manage and she didn't say anything. Revyn only begun to sway when he felt her shoulders begin to shake.

He held her for some collection of minutes, rubbing a hand against her back as she cracked and sobbed and he was completely helpless to do anything about it; hushing her, reassuring her, and it seemed to help when she pulled back a fraction to wipe at her reddened eyes, looking at his shoulder with a loud sniff when she said, "m'sorry," her hand rubbing over the part of his shirt her face had been pressed, "got you wet."

"It's just a shirt," he shook his head, watching her take a deep breath, "what is going on?"

She didn't really respond, so he glanced back to the package, asking quietly, "was my messing around upsetting? Would you have preferred I left it alone?"

Idesa shook her head, swallowing a bit thick, "No, it- that was fine. You didn't do anything wrong. I-" the edges of her lips downturned again, but she let her face fall to her hands with a weak sigh, "I just don't feel good."

"It's okay to not feel good," she looked back up at him, and he was struck with the strong sense of upset at not knowing how to fix this, "is this physical, mental, or emotional?"

Idesa smiled a little up at him, "Goodness, I haven't heard you ask that in a while."

"You haven't come to me upset like this in a while," it was a lot more frequent when she was a child; after the Red Year she had some damage from the heat and smaller fallen debris that they were struck with that shattered in the ashwastes and splintered out. Idesa had a series of issues as a result of what had happened, and she struggled to verbalize as such when she was so young. Revyn had use to hold up three fingers and point out which one meant which, so she could put up the appropriate amount of fingers as well when she couldn't find it in herself to speak. He didn't have to do the hand gesture as much when she was hitting her later teenage years, but pinpointing her sadness or hurt helped her talk about it and deal with it, which was really all he cared about.

Idesa sniffed, before holding up a two and then a three. Mental and emotional, alright then.

Revyn nodded, keeping his voice faint as he asked, "Did you really send the medicine here because you were too embarrassed to ask for it, or did you simply want an easy way of telling me something was wrong without outright saying it?"

Idesa not responding was answer enough.

" _Hla'jul_ , do you want to talk about it?" 

"Don't you have to open soon?"

"You're more important than being open on time, Dess," she smiled faintly, and while it didn't quite reach her eyes, she slipped forward as Revyn pulled her into another hug. She dropped her head to his shoulder before her grip tightened around him.

"You never call me Dess anymore," she sounded muffled against his shoulder.

"We don't live together anymore," he hummed, "I don't see you all the time."

"I know, I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize," he leaned back a fraction to regard her a little better, "you're doing really well for yourself and I'm so proud of you, you know that right?"

Idesa gave a little nod, "I know, but it's nice to hear occasionally."

Revyn brushed some of her looser curls from her face, "what's going on?"

"I..-" she glanced to the floor, almost as though she was trying to sort through her thoughts before looking back up at him, "everything."

Idesa quietly started explaining herself; she was being constantly harassed by the soldiers, enough so that she hadn't been to the market in nearly a week because she's been too frayed to travel through the mass. She explained that her work was getting harder as she was contracted for the remainder of the year, which Revyn knew about, with Clan Cruel-Sea; she often Nannys their son during business hours when both parents are busy with their respective careers, and she's been stressed about the gross remarks Torsten, the child's father, has repeatedly made and keeps insisting he'll up the pay for her if she simply became a live-in nanny when the contract eventually comes up. It's unfortunate because she loves her charge Grimvar and wants to be there for them because he clearly needs the attention, but she's feeling frayed and terrified of what could possibly result if she continued with the family after the end of the year.

She grew quiet a moment, the edge of her lips twitching down when she swallowed, "then- the whole mess with the Butcher." Revyn recognized himself in the things she said in relation to the killer. What she's done to lock up her home, often traveling in pairs, terrified of being out after dark. There was a weight in her shoulders, her breath short, a quiver in her lower lip when she finally said, "then a few days ago they..-" tears were welling up again, "they found Suzy."

Revyn looked her over carefully, thinking, "Your friend from Candlehearth."

Idesa pressed her lips together a bit tight, voice cracking as she said, "I _know_ you didn't really know her very well and-"

"That doesn't matter," he let his hands drop to her hands, squeezing them, "you're hurting. What I know or don't know, doesn't matter."

It was a truly horrible feeling watching Idesa crack. It was gradual, and she stopped moving for a long moment and simply focused on breathing. Her brows were tight and furrowed, and Revyn waited it out until she was ready. It took some time, but eventually, she looked to Revyn, lower lip chewed on before informing him that they were going to hold a wake.

He looked at her, a bit surprised, considering Susanna wasn't a dunmer. He didn't even have to voice the question of how she made that possible, as Idesa expressed that she had made her case to Madame Llavrana late last night, and Awen had even assisted in what ways she could to honour her. Susanna the Wicked was friends with many of the dunmer in the Grey Quarter, as she had grown up homeless along their streets; they had been good to her, and she in turn had been good to them right back. Idesa believes firmly that in many ways Suzy had grown up alongside so many of the folks here, that to not hold a wake for someone who so many dunmer held close to them felt cruel and cheap.

Revyn leaned against the merchant counter, listening as Idesa recounted her friend both in fondness and remorsefully; Susanna was the sort to have fun and love recklessly, which drove some of the other Nords in the city a bit mad. She was good friends with Ambarys, and was one of the few Nord's he could ever tolerate, and made a point to direct folks to the Cornerclub if they ever wanted a 'real drink'. She had grown up poor and homeless as a child, but Idesa and her were well around the same age when they came to the city, and as Idesa was growing up, she admitted they use to get up to all sorts of things that Idesa could never admit to as a child.

"Oh you would have been so angry with me," and there was a soft smile on her lips, but her voice was anything but happy, "sort of the reason I never brought her around. I was really afraid you'd make me stop seeing her."

"It wasn't so bad here when you were very small, _hla_ ," Idesa wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself as he spoke, "At least back then, Ulfric's father had the decency to treat us with kindness. You getting into trouble when you were that young wouldn't have been so terrible." he shifted, "truthfully, he was the sort of person that likely would have sent you home with a warning if the guards took you in. The Jarl we have now would rather keep our children in cages overnight for loitering."

Idesa sniffed, continuing with a nod, "If Nils hadn't been looking after her for the most part, I might have brought her home but.." Idesa seemed to be struggling with her words, hand brushing up to wiping against the wetness in her cheek, "You were just.. so overwhelmed back then. You were doing so much alone, and I knew money was really hard and I didn't want to put more on you, especially when I knew you would try if I asked."

Revyn looked to the bag once again, picking it up from the counter and offering it to her, "Is there something I can do that would help?"

Idesa accepted it, grateful as she pinched the pins keeping it close, "It would mean a lot to me if you would come to the wake tonight if, of course, you have the time?"

"I will make time," she smiled a bit wetly at him, and while her crying had slowed, there was still a distinct redness under her eyes. Revyn made a small gesture towards the bag she was now fiddling with.

"Is there.. anything I can do to help, concerning the package you received?"

Idesa shook it, "it's uhm," she made a vague gesture, clearly trying to recall, "some herbs. I'm supposed to brew them in a tea, I think. I asked for something ingestable to assist with my recent issues with insomnia. I haven't been getting much rest."

"You certainly look it."

Idesa placed the bag by her feet to rub her palms down her face, pulling down at the bags under her eyes as she groaned, "It's _aging_ me."

Revyn snorted, "keep it up and you'll start getting ones like mine."

"Those came from _years_ of poor sleep, I've only got a few weeks," she scrunched her nose, inhaling sharply, before looking to Revyn, and he was thankful that the tension in her seemed to drop, if only for a time. "I know you don't like wakes any more than I do. Are you sure it's okay?"

"Of course," he hooked his arm over her shoulders, pulling her in to kiss the top of her head before saying, "I love you, _hla'jul_. I'll be there tonight, at, I'm assuming Greystone?"

"Llavrana insisted on it, actually," there was that smile again, "I love you too, I'll come by again tonight after you close up." she sniffed, wiping at her eyes before grabbing her package. "Goodness, I should get going. My charge might be waiting on me," Revyn straightening up alongside her, "I..- thank you," she yanked Revyn to her, hugging him tightly, "I've had quite the week. I'm gonna have you come by for breakfast soon, okay? You doing okay?"

"Breakfast would be great," Revyn held her a long moment before letting go, "I'm.. alright. For the most part. Made a new friend recently."

The distress from before had lessened along her face, looking at him brightly, though it was clear she was just trying to distract herself. "Of course you did, you're very likable." she chuckled, brushing her palm against her cheek, the pair of them walking towards the front door as she said, "please take care, and I'll see you tonight?"

"Tonight."

With a smile, and her shoulders a little lighter than before, Idesa slipped back into the windy streets, the snow trailing behind her.

xxx

Revyn had entirely forgotten about dinner plans.

Forgot about it as he placed away groceries with his thoughts to that night and trying to make sure he opened shop an hour late and went through the day thinking about funerals. He forgot about it up until he was in the middle of restocking a large load from a wanderer passing through, and his front door opened an hour before closing. Revyn had been on the floor trying to sort through some of the armour that came in today, his countertops covered in arrows as said adventurer didn't bother to organize them, and so sold them stashed in several quivers that he now needs to sort through. He pushed up to stand when he heard the door, but heard the voice before he got to his feet.

"Revyn?"

He popped up from behind the counter, greeted by several feet of armor and the sudden slamming realization he forgot he made plans. He pushed to his feet, brushing his hands over the front of his pants as he addressed the dragonborn with an "Oh! Hello, you're..- a bit early actually."

"I want to apologize," the other began, a little hasty and sounding rather guilty, "I didn't want you thinking I was running away again, or that I wasn't interested in dinner, but unfortunately something came up and it felt inappropriate to say no."

Revyn blinked, before feeling almost guilty himself at how almost grateful he was to hear it, "it's.. odd you say that because I was going to actually say the same thing."

The dragonborn seemed to halt a bit, a relieved little huff coming from behind the mask when he asked, "Oh, well, that's rather good then."

Revyn gathered some of the arrows on his countertop, as he explained, "There is a wake my sister asked me to come to tonight. A uh, friend of her's had recently died, and she wanted my support." he pressed his hands onto the counter after setting the arrows aside, leaning a bit as he tried to recall when she said she'd be over to grab him, before saying, "I _would_ love to reschedule, however. I still have the food, and I'm a rather decent cook, and I still haven't quite shown you appropriate gratitude for your help, if you're interested."

"A wake?" a moment, then, "this might be an odd question, but is it for the waitress from Candlehearth?"

Revyn made a motion to agree before pausing; wait, "ah, so about the something that came up for you?"

"You have a sister?" and this conversation was entirely disjointed when Gal awkwardly exhaled behind the mask, "I'm terribly sorry. I would love to have dinner with you still if there are no later conflicts, but did we cancel plans only to go to the same place tonight?"

Revyn looked at him bemused before laughing, " _Goodness_. Yes, I have a sister, and if we're going to the same place you'll have the truly lovely honour of meeting her."

He really wished he could see the others face, because the blank stare of the mask made it difficult to tell if his comments are ever welcome or what the other was otherwise thinking; the dragonborn gave a lot in body language, but there was truly _nothing_ when he was standing still. Revyn pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, feeling a little bit awkward and not really sure what to say when Gal eventually spoke up.

"I hope this doesn't sound presumptuous, but would you like to walk down together if we're going to the same place?" Revyn quirked a brow, but Gal continued, "I wasn't quite given the time to be there and I don't really know what I'm supposed to do or where to go when I do."

Revyn felt particularly endeared, smiling when he said, "If you would like, I see no reason not to. We were supposed to chat tonight anyways." Revyn glanced around at his mess, running his fingers through the front of his hair, he waved towards the front door. "Lock that, will you?" and at Gal's glance towards the door, the dunmer made an offhanded sound, "most folks rarely come this late, and I have less than an hour of work to do. I need to clean up and get ready as it is."

He was already looking back towards the series of clothes and armour at his feet once again, hearing the secure thud of the deadbolt as he dropped back to his knees to gather what he could. He heard the scuff of boots against floor and the mild creak of someone leaning on the counter as he quickly went through what could be folded and tucked them away on his lower shelves before moving to grab the armour; he looked some of the damage over with a frown, realizing he's going to have to throw these in his backroom to clean and oil, when Gal spoke up.

"Busy day?" Revyn glanced up and over his shoulder, seeing Gal with his arms crossed against the surface of his counter, head cocked and shoulders relaxed. Revyn hummed.

"You could say that," he picked up the first set of armour, carefully getting to his feet as to not drop anything as he took the items to his Storage area. There were a series of boxes stacked and an old bedframe hitched up and stored away. This use to be Idesa's room, but whatever she didn't take when she moved out were all stored in boxes he never had the heart to throw away, and were simply collecting dust as he placed the armour on top of one. "a traveler came by a few times to trade, had a lot of junk she had no use for," he said as he stepped back into the room, going to grab the next set, only to see Gal picking up some of the arrows still on the counter. He seemed to be sorting them, and Revyn opted not to bring attention to it. "Plenty of new wares next time you're interested in buying something."

"Not tonight, but I could definitely use more of these." Gal pulled the Iron arrows into one quiver, before getting to work on some dwarven. "I'll stop by again before the next time I leave the city. My stores are running rather thin."

Revyn spent the next few minutes quietly storing away the armour, hearing the gentle clanking of thin hallowed metal as Gal idly organized his mess for him. Once he had mostly everything back where he wanted it, he went to wash his hands before moving to step into his back room. The dragonborn finished with his work, following a little further behind; He stopped by the doorway leading towards the bedroom, Revyn already digging through one of his drawers as he was trying to recall where he stored his appropriate garb with a huff.

Gal didn't try to hide the fact he was glancing around, but did not enter to poke or mess with anything. He kept his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. Revyn was getting uncomfortable with the quiet, looking over his shoulder, "I have to ask, how'd an outlander get permission to enter Greystone?"

"Pardon?"

" _You_." Revyn grabbed a buried deep grey garment, sifting through a few folded shirts as he sought out its strings and buckles that he knew he still had placed away for these sort of situations, speaking up, "Greystone is a private establishment. Difficult for non-mer to get permission to enter, even under special circumstances."

"Ah," Gal shifted a bit, "While in town I've run a few errands for.. the Seer there? The elder one, not the younger. She got to talking and I was informed of a ritual, and she seemed enthused to be able to showcase her abilities. Seem's she hasn't in some time. Invited me along as a guest and as support, as I know a few people that were going to be in attendance."

The sneaking suspicion that the great Dragonborn probably wasn't a nord was only further affirmed; Llavrana clearly noticed something about him as well, otherwise, she likely wouldn't have allowed him to come. Revyn does assume there will be a few nords there, but only to the extent of immediate relations, if Llavrana of course deems it appropriate. Gal is none of those things, as far as Revyn was aware, but opted not to make any comments on the matter.

Instead, he simply nodded. "Well, while this is a.. ah, mourning ritual, I think you'll rather find some of these customs very fascinating. Dunmeri ritual work such as this is a very closed practice, and being able to experience one first hand is an honour and a privilege, especially so if you're not a dunmer, do you understand?"

"I am very aware of what I'm being given access to witness, and I will do my best to follow the lead of everyone there."

Revyn finally found the remaining straps and its associated cloak further to the right of the drawer, pulling it free with a little frown as he noticed a bit of ash along the seam; he brushed it clean as his thumb traced parts of the buttons to make sure they were all still there. Placing them on his pillow, he began his short search to wherever he'd buried the matching trousers as he said, " so who's your guide going to be?"

Gal was quiet, and when Revyn pulled a pair of trousers from his bottom drawer he realized he hadn't been given a response. He looked over his shoulder again, asking, "Your guide?"

There was a pause, appearing uncertain. "Guide for.. what?"

Revyn regarded him a long moment, looking back to the clothing in his hands before asking; "Ah, uhm. Are you a dunmer by any chance?"

Gal seemed to freeze up, clearly at a loss of what to say and clearly unable to really answer before Revyn stepped forward with, "Everyone assumes you're a nord, and I promise you that I won't be able to narrow down your identity through your race or lack of. I'm trying to help you." before adding, with some kindness, "please?"

He was still unmoving a moment before Revyn noticed the short-lived shake of his head. He didn't quite expect that to work.

"Alright, well, I assumed not, but there is a chance our Seer may perceive certain behaviors in you that attest to her perhaps believing otherwise." if he moved on quickly enough, perhaps the dragonborn wouldn't look so tense, "Have you spent much time in Morrowind, or around many dunmer?"

Another pause, but this one felt simpler, "I spent several years in Blacklight, if that answers your question."

"Answers it completely, actually." he sat on the side of his bed, undoing the straps of his shoes, "explains why she felt she might not have needed to give you a guide. Uhm," he pulled one shoe free, setting it aside as he began working on the straps of the other. He had a thought, but it felt..- well, 'inappropriate' wasn't the correct word for it, but he's sure it toed the line somewhere. 'Inapposite' felt too strong a word as well, the more he considered it, but it _was_ the distinct feeling of something quite simply not his place.

Yet, Gal needed a guide, and it wasn't as if he couldn't provide one. After all, the dragonborn has done him an incredible favour, and this was a good way if any of returning that kindness.

"I'd hate to be presumptuous," Revyn started, and feeling glad that his uncertainty was more under the surface than anything, "ah, especially if you have a..- a closer relationship with any of the other dunmer attending, but I can guide you through the ritual if you would like?" quick to add, "If _not_ I'd be happy to direct you to those who can."

Whatever tension that was there, lessened, as the dragonborn made a funny little sound behind the mask, "I.. would appreciate that greatly, actually, thank you."

Revyn smiled faintly at that, pulling off his other shoe and feeling a tinge of warmth, "Happy to return the favour."

Gal sighed a little, "I'm not keeping tabs, and I'm getting worried you feel aware of some sort of perceived disparity between us."

"I feel very aware that you have been incomprehensibly kind with me and expect nothing in return," Revyn had stood, thoughtlessly grabbing at the bottom hem of his shirt, "however I'm not doing this only because I want to square away any debts. Guided ritual work is something I haven't done in some years, and I'd honestly rather not leave you to figure it out on your own." Revyn got it about halfway up before realizing he was acting without thinking, remembering starkly that he had _company_ and said company wasn't family. Whether or not the dragonborn noticed the sudden drop was entirely in the air as he cleared his throat, "Erm, could you turn around?"

Gal made a little 'ah' sound before turning on his heel to face the front of the store. Revyn watched his back a long moment before feeling confident that he seemed honest enough to not turn around. He quickly pulled his shirt off, carefully folding it as he placed it on the headboard of his bed, fingers falling towards his belt; and paused there. There was nothing inherently _bad_ about what he was doing, but having a guest present made him feel exposed, even as he reasoned they weren't necessarily watching and that he _should_ hurry because he doesn't know how soon Idesa was planning on being here.

Didn't stop the weird surge of heat at the base of his belly to manifest as he undid the clasps of his trousers, sliding out his belt as he let his pants pool at his ankles.

"Do you suppose something could have gone different?" Gal's voice startled him a bit, snagging the clothing from the floorboards to toss into his laundry basket behind his bed as he looked his back over curiously.

"I don't quite know what you mean."

Gal shifted, as Revyn focused on pulling darker trousers up his hips, slipping high and a bit tighter than he remembered them being, "With.. the serial killer business, you know? I've been working with the guards a bit, trying to figure out patterns, trying to figure out cause. Found a lot of body parts in the abandoned house in the upper district."

"You found _what_?" belt through two loops, and Gal made a little noise.

"I'm not really supposed to be talking about it, but I've come to the personal conclusion that I don't quite think you're doing it. I don't see the harm in telling you about it."

Revyn thought that a bit curious, slipping the belt further and clasping it upfront. "Well, I suppose that's reassuring." he grabbed his shirt, "but body parts?"

"Specifically the rejects," he said, "I knew whoever was doing this was taking trophies, but it's hard to say what happened to the ones they were proud of - where they are."

Revyn plucked at the inseam shirt in thought, slipping it on after a second; it took a moment of carefully rethreading the open front, pulling the strings from the bottom and crossing its way to the top. It was a bit of a deep shirt, both in colour and in the plummetting neckline, than he would typically wear, but for these sorts of ceremonies, it was the traditional attire. Formal ritual garb strapped up, as he placed a second belt above his hips that he could tuck in the loose bottom of the shirt, setting aside the cape as he moved towards the doorway where he tapped Gal's elbow as he passed.

"Is that where you found that strange amulet?" he asked, stepping around the dragonborn to grab the boots on the other side of the wall. Gal seemed to snap out of whatever train of thought he was in, as Revyn heard a sharp inhale, looking up confused, "Are you okay?" before glancing down to the part of the arm he touched, suddenly aware that maybe there might be hidden bandages under all that armour, "are you hurt?"

Gal didn't respond at first before the dunmer saw a little shake of his head, "No, ah- I'm fine. You look-" the pause was short but there, "-really good."

Revyn looked down at himself, almost responding but the other cleared his throat, shifting before taking a small step back, "-uhm, yeah, that's uh- that's where I found the Amulet. I ended up going to speak with the Court Mage over it. There was some speculation he had something to do with the mess, but he was able to clear his name." he watched as Revyn continued to go for the footwear, watching him as he said, "That looks like it'll be cold, do you need a jacket?"

Boots in hand, Revyn slipped back into the bedroom with a snort, "Are you offering?"

Gal actually seemed to reach up towards the clasp of his coat collar before Revyn chuckled, taking a seat at the foot of his bed, "I have a cloak I'm supposed to wear, I should be fine but thank you," he unclasped the upper straps of the footwear, though part of the leather was caught. "I _do_ remember that. Calixto said a bit about it, though he's an odd fellow to be making claims like that." he struggled further, fumbling with the strap before pausing and trying to figure out what exactly was catching, before seeing part of the leather pinched by the zipper with a sigh.

"Need help?" Gal stepped further into the room, Revyn lifting up the boot with an annoyed shake.

"Zippers pinched."

"Can I try?" Revyn held it out to him to which the dragonborn approached, accepting the boot to examine as the dunmer grabbed its match which unlaced with ease. Gal seemed to get the footwear to loosen its grip for a moment before catching lower, chuckling under his breath as he kneeled beside the merchant.

"I'm going to touch you, is that okay?" Revyn's eyes snapped over to the dragonborn who was a little lower than eye level at his side as he showed the dunmer the zipper, "part of this is bent out, and is going to keep catching."

Revyn swallowed a bit, feeling suddenly very warm, nodding a bit absently, "Ah, certainly."

There were quick flittering thoughts of ' _it's not okay he's not family he's not-_ ' but Revyn smothered those worries with reasons of ' _it's fine because he's helping, it doesn't count-_ ' but it didn't stop the race of adrenaline he felt as he watched the dragonborn get the zipper mostly to the base, holding it open. Revyn gripped part of the base to slip his foot in before returning his attention back to the other boot. Gal took that as permission enough, his hand pressing against the dunmer's ankle and Revyn felt heat race up from the point of contact to his thighs and bit down against the inside of his cheek _hard_.

Annoyed with himself, he pulled the zipper up forcefully on his other boot, before moving through each of the excess straps, trying to ignore the brush of hands gently dragging up his legs with the zipper, catching twice and having to deal with someone pulling his leg over and apart because the zipper was located at the _inner_ side of his leg. He was finished with strapping up once Gal seemed to get the zipper up entirely, pressure just above Revyn's inner knee, but instead of slipping away, Gal started doing the straps while he was down there.

He didn't have to do that, but Revyn found himself not stopping him either.

His cheeks were burning, smothering intrusive thoughts left and right. He pressed his elbow down on his opposite knee, bringing his hand to his face to prop his chin, wanting to appear nonchalant while worried he looked anything but. Gal's hands were very warm, even through the thin leather that clad them, and when Gal was finished, clasping off the final strap by Revyn's knee, he stopped, hand still against the dunmers leg. There was a moment as Gal just sort of upturned his head a bit to look at the dunmer, both quiet, and Revyn wasn't at all certain if he felt the hand almost slip up to brush his thigh but before his brain could register it, there was a knock at the front of the shop.

Whatever that was stopped abruptly, as Gal cleared his throat and quickly pushed back to his feet. Revyn ignored how hot his face felt, quickly murmuring his thanks before darting towards the front door. His hands felt clammy and was his heart beating really fast? He wiped his palms against the front of his trousers as he undid the deadbolt; pulling it open had an arm follow with a key already in the lock as he accidentally yanked Idesa forward.

She snorted, pulling the key back out with a " _Took_ you long enough, you about ready-" she quickly took in his face and did a double-take. Her hands reached up to touch his cheek, before placing the back of her palm against his forehead, "You okay? You look warm."

Revyn cleared his throat, "Ah, I'm fine. I'm mostly finished," he pushed her hand aside, though was kind about it as he pulled back to look for his cloak. Idesa stepped in with a sigh, her own boots clicking against the floorboards, ritual robes strapped up and looking as pristine as ever as he quickly slipped back into his living chamber where she followed.

"I saw Ambarys already heading down," she hummed from behind, "and I heard they're even opening up the basement for-" Idesa stopped short, noticing for the first time Revyn had a guest, blinking a moment as she watched Revyn grab his cloak from his pillow, messing with it's clasp before turning her attention over the strange fellow besides. "Hello," she glanced up, "uhm-"

"Ah," Revyn pulled the cloak over his shoulders, gesturing towards his companion with a nod, "This is.. my friend. He was invited to the wake as well and I offered to be his guide."

Whatever small amount of tension that formed in her shoulders immediately dropped, especially once Revyn didn't use certain terminology to indicate him as a threat, smiling up as she stepped forward, her hand outstretched; "Oh! I'm Idesa Sadri, Revyn's little sister. It's nice to meet you."

He accepted her hand in kind, completely encompassing it as he said, "I'm Gal, it's lovely to meet you."

Idesa smiled brightly, "oh you sound polite." before she let her hand fall to shove Revyn's shoulder, "and a _guide_? Goodness you've not done that in a few years."

Revyn pinched her arm, straightening out the creases of his cloak. "I haven't had a _reason_ to guide in a few years."

"Will it be particularly difficult for you?" Gal asked, "I don't want to impose if it's an inconvenience."

"Oh it's no trouble," Revyn gestured for them both to follow, leading them to the door, "Guiding is only to keep you on track, it'll be simple."

Idesa leaned a bit close to loudly whisper, "It's a little bit more complicated than that, but he knows what he's doing so it should be fine." Gal faced her as she did, the pair of them slipping out the door behind the merchant as Revyn went about quickly locking up.

It always seemed a bit silly to acknowledge the chill each time he left home, but it was particularly biting tonight. Revyn took to leading the way down, pulling the cloak tighter around himself, instinctively slowing a moment to glance at Idesa to make sure she was properly bundled before admonishing himself that she was an adult and she didn't need him to fuss over her anymore. She seemed to notice his hesitation before humming, "I'm warm, but if we don't hurry up I won't be."

Revyn blinked before nodding, picking up the pace.

"Whoever designed your clothes didn't quite take Skryim's weather in mind."

It was Idesa who chuckled at that, "No, they certainly did not."

"They're traditional ritualistic garb, the original designer of these clothes has been dead a millennium at this point," Revyn responded over his shoulder, "I don't quite think they ever expected them to get used outside of the ashlands."

"I don't quite think anyone here expected to use them outside of the ashlands either," Idesa replied, "but it's alright. We've been able to rebuild a lot of what we lost during the Red Year. Our Seer even took in my suggestion of using the basement level where we keep our dead. We have several plots we don't use as there are so few of us, and it isn't as though we could have brought our ancestors or families remains with us when we escaped."

"Wait, is she getting cremated?" Revyn looked over his shoulder, confused but Idesa shook her head.

"No, her body is in the hall of the dead. We have some of her items, rather, for the wake. Things she's given people over time that we're going to use instead." Idesa glanced up at their companion, "have you ever attended a dunmeri wake?"

"I have not," Gal replied, "but I've heard a bit about them."

"Then this will certainly be an experience for you."

Revyn saw someone standing at the entrance of Greystone down the way, robes a stark red against the shadows of this place. He looked back at Idesa, who, despite her attitude in all of this, seemed to notice as well, and there was a downtrodden way she looked towards her brother. The last time they attended a wake in this fashion, she was eight, and there were no bodies for them to honour or mourn. It had been.. difficult, sitting in a circle around the first make-shift rounded off pit of stone, the seer giving her rites but there was no burning; couldn't cremate bodies that were buried under several feet of ash miles across the sea.

It was usually the mother's job to guide her children through these sort of rituals, but Revyn was all Idesa had and so he had to teach her himself. She'd never been to a wake before then, and after it was done, Idesa did everything in her power to avoid returning. Revyn had assisted friends in wakes, guided once since, and never made her come along; the fact she went through the trouble of having one happen for someone else spoke volumes to him as they approached the front.

The red robe turned to look at the three of them, and the closer they got is when Revyn finally recognized him; the red streaks of paint on his high cheekbones obscured some of his face beyond the hood, but Rendvas Saraai was otherwise unmistakable. The young mage held out his hand wordlessly, Revyn extending his own as Rendvas took it, turning his palm skyward as he pressed three of his fingers against the center. After a moment, heat spread through his palm, before a glow appeared on the back of his hand as Rendvas turned it over, showing a soft inverted triangle as it appeared in a golden glow. A protection sigil, before taking Revyn's other hand and doing the same thing, heat seeping through as his palm was flipped towards the ground where a half triangle with three dots above then manifested; healing. Lastly, Rendvas pulled his hood away, letting it fall to his shoulders, his hair pulled back into a series of braids, red paint dragging from his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, across his cheeks, before vanishing behind his throat where tired eyes examined Revyn's face. Both of his hands pressed against his cheeks before his thumbs brushed up to press against the middle of his forehead. Warmth manifested as he pulled away, and while Revyn could not see it, he knew it was more than likely the eye; allowing safe sight into the otherworld.

"May they discover peace." Rendvas let his hands fall away, allowing Revyn to nod and step aside. The mage moved to Idesa next, going through the same motions, though he added softer condolences to her; he must have picked up she was actually in mourning, as his hand fell to her shoulder in sympathy. Her smile was faint, but there, stepping aside as Gal stood there in immense uncertainty.

"You must be the outlander," and Rendvas looked to him kindly, "though I suppose the dragonborn is no dunmer, I will grant you the safety I granted your friends."

Revyn heard Idesa whisper hiss ' _dragonborn_ -?' but Rendvas had his hand outstretched. Gal stood, unmoving, before carefully pulling his hands free from his gloves. His skin was freckled, sunkissed, and entirely normal-looking; Revyn felt only a bit surprised at a lack of serious scarring until Rendvas took his palm, turning it skyward. The remnants of a gash were ever-present, and it suddenly felt rude to stare; Rendvas spoke gently as he worked, explaining what he was doing and what the symbols represented and did. Tracing the mark on the back of Gal's hand with the triangle and where it comes from, before taking the other, going through the same process as he described that the healing was frequently for those who were in mourning, but was often there to encourage community and support for your hurting loved ones as well.

There was a pause when it came to Gal's mask, but he settled to grab the sides of the piece, moving it forward, and Rendvas did not argue as he slipped his hand under. There was a moment of light that came from behind the eye slots that dimmed almost immediately, the dunmer pulling his hand free with a nod. After that, he pulled his hood back up and moved to the side of the entrance. 

Revyn led the way inside, Idesa slipping in beside before turning on Gal with a wide-eyed look.

" _Dragonborn_?" Gal shifted a bit, looking almost sheepish though it was hard to say.

"I try not to introduce myself in that fashion when I can avoid it, but yes."

She was bouncing a bit on her feet, "Revyn, your _friend_ -?"

"Come along you three," came a voice from further in. They turned to look at a woman stepping up from the far staircase, red robe draped and face painted in much the same fashion as Rendvas. Awen however had jewelry layering down her throat, gold and silver along her fingers, and a thin circlet on her crown. Her hair was done up in locks, encircling the crown of her head as she watched them. Stepping aside from the staircase as she made a gesture down below, "We're almost ready, hurry along now."

Idesa didn't let up her bewildered look towards Revyn, pinching him as she passed and approached the Seer's apprentice. Revyn dropped back only a moment to walk beside Gal, crossing the wide somewhat cluttered front entry of the temple.

Revyn didn't often enter Greystone; it was a rather large building with a handful of levels of what was once a place of healing for the local nords, but had been abandoned some years before the dunmer ever came. It had been in a severe state of disrepair, which explains why such a large place was left uninhabited, but with some work, the stone here had been reinforced and rooms all cleaned up and repurposed. The front entryway itself was a sort of waiting area, mostly decorated and set up in a fashion that led to a few rooms near the sides that Revyn knew contained storage, towards stairs that led to levels specific to worship, practice, living chambers, and caring for the dead. Greystone was well kept and clean, stepping over well-maintained rugs as they reached the far staircase leading down, Idesa stepping through first before Revyn, Gal following as Awen stepped in after. 

The staircase was stone and well lit, where the further they descended they could hear soft chatter below, the strong smell of frankincense and blue sage greeting them at every new step. A faint layer of smoke hovering along the ceiling once they reached the bottom platform, and inside was the rest of the mass.

The bottom level was fashioned specifically for the dead; the whole basement gutted and reinforced with thick stone pillars between fire plots where ash and cremation rested. The few piles that were there, were small, where most of the circle's are empty and untouched; tunnels built into the foundation of where they placed the bodies to turn to ash were all cold and closed off, candles sitting up around one particular ring of stone closer to the center of the room that was surrounded by a handful of sitting dunmer and nord alike. All crosslegged, and what few nords there are, were seated with a pairing dunmer, small cauldrons between them sitting aloft minor fires.

Revyn spotted Ambarys sitting with Malthyr Elenil, both of which looking up as they all came down, Ambarys smiling at him before making a gesture towards the empty cauldron to his side. Everyone was toting their ritual wear, excluding the nords that were in simple dark mourning robes, as Revyn gestured for Gal to take a seat by the first empty cauldron surrounding the pit, who did wordlessly. Idesa stopped a moment to kiss Revyn's cheek, squeezing his shoulder.

"Thank you for coming," she said, a bit quiet, looking around the room, "I didn't quite expect so many people, but it means a lot for you to be here for me."

"You know I'd do anything for you," he grabbed her hand that had the healing sigil glowing on it, holding it up to her, "death isn't the end."

She smiled faintly, "I know. It's just sad, I think, that she's not in a place I can follow."

"For now," he squeezed her hand before letting go, "now sit, before Llavrana gets here."

She pulled back, Awen at her side and gesturing for her to take a seat at the adjacent cauldron. Revyn dropped down beside Gal, crossing his legs under him. Gal watched him openly, moving to cross his legs similarly as well, letting his hands fall to his lap.

Revyn sat quietly a moment, noting some of the nords didn't have a sigil on their foreheads, quietly paired with dunmer who did; he recognized Nils in the bunch, his elderly face gaunt with a faraway look in his eyes. Revyn saw a red robe move to him, Taliesin it looked like, who took a seat beside him and spoke quietly. Nils didn't look at him but nodded to what was said, and Revyn felt it inappropriate to stare further when he saw the sides of his lips twitch down.

Gal shifted, "I have a lot of questions."

Revyn glanced back over towards him, looking around briefly but still did not see his Seer, so relaxed a bit. "What questions are those?"

Gal made a little gesture towards.. well, everything. Revyn chuckled.

"Well we can start with some basics, but I'll explain as we go, okay? Much will have to wait until the Madame comes."

"That's alright," he said, matching Revyn's quiet volume. "Tell me about the setup?"

Revyn scooted a little closer, starting with the more obvious aspects of the ritual down to some of the smallest. He began with the pit, explaining the significance of cremation in dunmeri culture, how jarring it was to realize that other cultures entomb entire bodies and why a practice like that would be seen as trapping. There is no honour in letting a body rot, he explained, and the process they were about to commence in was a method of freeing the spirit from their mortal vessel. He made a gesture towards the sealed up cremation pits inside the walls, adding, "well, we would be burning a body if she were dunmer. We _can't_ as she's a nord, and her body will be cared for by their methods. A great deal of what we will be doing tonight will be symbolic, and mostly for those mourning rather than for the woman herself."

Revyn continued towards the cauldrons, saying that the cremation itself is only to be done by a wise woman or seer, who was always the person orchestrating a wake. Family and friends would be surrounding the burning with empty cauldrons and would burn things associated with that person. It was common to burn specifically herbs and cloth, others may burn letters they wrote the departed for them to have in the otherworld, melt down jewelry and the like. However, once the burning begins, it can cause a stir with any spirits that may reside during the ritual and those spirits can be hostile. The sigils on their hands are temporary but can hide them from sight if something like that happens, it can also prevent possession in worse cases. Revyn reassures that something like that is unlikely to happen as all the ash here has been dutifully cared for, and these pits are recent in the past forty or so years. It was the pits back in his old village however that would be a site of worry, considering it's been buried and neglected for a few decades now.

"And what of the eye?" Gal asked, and Revyn thought a moment.

"If I remember correctly, it will allow you to perceive the otherworld a bit more clearly if any spirits step through the veil. The Madame will be weakening the barrier between their world and ours for a brief time, pay respects, and close the gate. There are some motions and rites that will be needed from us, but I will guide you through that as needed."

Gal nodded along and as Revyn shifted on his legs, he asked, "Any particular reason the outfit is.. rather exposing?"

Revyn snorted, "Truthfully I'm not sure. I think it has something to do with where we carry our spirit. The soul resides most strongly in the chest by the heart, and the less in the way the better. Or perhaps its simply aesthetics. Either way, it's traditional."

There was a soft chuckle from behind the mask, "I think it suits you nicely."

"I think it looks a little silly, but I appreciate your saying so."

Gal fell quiet a moment, moving to respond when steps began to descend the staircase. Revyn straightened up, the room falling quiet. The click of sharp steps one after the next until the final red robe entered the room.

While a Seer holds within their grasp unimaginable power, a fair part of their work is presentation.

The air was absolutely vibrating with it as Madame Llavrana entered the room, enriched in a glow.

She stepped forward with grace and presence, purpose following her in her very bearing. The robe she wore was far longer and decorated than her apprentices, her face painted in formal spirals that surround her eyes and encompassed her face, coming from the back of her bald head, down her throat, and along her collar below the open laces of her robe. Despite her age, she held herself tall, an alter crown upon her head and wore no other jewelry. She embodied every aspect of otherworldly beauty, her face carefully blank as she stepped forward, followed by Rendvas who carried part of her robe to prevent it from dragging. She stepped into the empty pit, barefoot, where Rendvas took her sharp footwear and Awen came with white candles sticks, silently placing them around the lip of the pit, painstakingly lighting each one.

Llavrana stood silently, watching Awen work, and once she was finished nodded in mute thanks, dismissing her with a short wave. Sharp red eyes examined every person in the room, taking a moment specifically on the Nords present, before landing on Gal. There was a nod there, and Gal politely nodded back. Her hands raised, and the ritual began.

xxx

It was a long and arduous process, but Revyn was thankful to see the remains of the ash placed in the pit. The barrier closed.

The wake went accordingly, the rites spoken, the communion active participants as Llavrana gave a beautiful display, her voice a deep reverberation of resounding otherworldly reassurance. Death was never an end to a dunmer; it was the beginning of a peaceful softer life elsewhere, as she weaved a telling of Susanna's life, the fire dimmed low and the room all at once feeling alive. Gal did wonderfully, accepting Revyns hands as he led him from one practice to the next, close and intimate was the practice of honouring the dead, and being able to witness the awe of an outlander's experience for the first time was rather enjoyable.

Revyn helped Gal to his feet, his sister slipping back to his side with wet cheeks and pulling him close into a hug before humming tiredly that Awen was going to walk her home. She looked dreadful, but there was a tension lacking between her brows, and it felt as though perhaps she would finally feel some closure. Nils followed soon after, joined by those who came with him, speaking quietly with Taliesin, who had been his dunmer guide, and he looked just as worn thin. Llavrana had left almost immediately once the rites were through, looking a bit tired as she gave her closing words. The night was through and the process over.

Revyn was brushing off part of the ash when Ambarys approached him for the first time that night. He looked a little worn, but not nearly as bad as a few of the others present, smiling tiredly.

"I haven't had the honour of seeing you guide in a very long time," he said in greeting, "you're a very attentive teacher."

"I do alright," Revyn responded, crossing his arms in front of his chest, shifting relaxed. "I'm sorry to see you here, however."

Ambarys gave a little acknowledging sound, "Susanna was a sweet kid. It's horrific what happened, I'm sorry to see you here as well." he glanced at the tall masked figure beside the dunmer, before looking more fully at Revyn. "That being said, would you like company home? S'bit dangerous out there still and it's well past dark."

"I can walk him back," Gal spoke up, "it's the least I could do after all of this, anyhow."

Ambarys frowned a bit, "I'm heading that direction anyways-"

"as am I," Gal turned his head away towards the stairs, "as it stands, it might be safer to go in groups."

Ambarys looked only minorly peeved but seemed to relent at that, looking to Revyn once again, stepping alongside as the group began to move on, "Well, I'm impressed with your ritual work. Despite your hindrance, your fires were blue."

Revyn frowned, "Hindrance?"

Ambarys gave him a short look, making a vague gesture at Gal's back. Revyn elbowed him. " _Student_ is not synonymous with _hindrance-_ and of _course_ my fires were blue. I made them."

"That wasn't meant to be insulting-"

"Ambarys your use of language drives me insane," Revyn said, though he gave a mild smile to make it clear he wasn't angry, but rather bewildered, "you say the rudest comments occasionally completely unprompted and totally unnecessary to what point you are making. You could have easily said 'I noticed your fire was blue' rather than making some statement that it was achieved despite something."

"I disagree," they reached the stairs, climbing up with Gal in the lead, "I think achievements, when they're hard-earned, is good to point out."

"Sometimes, but-"

"Revyn, I am _trying_ to compliment you."

"Then try _harder_."

Gal's chuckle was hard to miss despite it being clear he tried to muffle it. Reaching the upper landing as the pair of them caught up. Ambarys sighed.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry." the dunmer relented, "I noticed your fires were blue, and I was impressed by it. Both you and Idesa are very good-"

"Exemplary is a better word," Revyn smiled, and Ambarys smiled back, shoulders relaxing when he realized that _ah_ , he's being teased, " _meritorious_ as another."

"Laudable, praiseworthy, all good terms." Gal added, kind, and Revyn smiled brightly in his direction, "other words for incredible."

"Yeah, well," he was still looking at Revyn, eyes tracing the pleased shape of his mouth, pulling his cloak a bit tighter over his shoulders as they moved to exit the building, "all of _that_. I haven't seen you work like that in some time and it was just refreshin', s'all I was tryin' to say."

"I appreciate it," he responded as they left. It was.. dark out, half the street lamps unlit and most of the walk being illuminated by the moon. Pinpricks stood up on the back of Revyn's neck and along his arms, and he couldn't shake the sudden feeling that there was someone here. Glancing behind them, the street looked empty, and neither Ambarys nor Gal seemed particularly on edge, so maybe he was just feeling paranoid; he didn't travel after dark on principle, so maybe.. maybe it was just nerves. That was probably it. Nerves. With a huff, he stepped a little closer to Ambarys as they traveled onward. "It was, uhm," he breathed, "no it was nice. I haven't seen Llavrana in such a long while, she looked as otherworldly as ever."

"She's quite the sight," Gal said, slowing his pace a fraction to stand on the other side of Revyn, "the attire was fascinating for everyone involved. The face paint, the sigils, the use of ash, I.. I've never seen anything like it."

"The seer is our guide to the otherworld," Ambarys said, a bit loud, "she embodies the barrier between realms, and it affects everything about her. Her lifespan's triple that of the average dunmer as a result, as her work slows down aging jus', a lot. Seers in particular, but Madame Llavrana herself, is the closest we'll ever be to immortality, but.. well."

"It's an imperfect process," Revyn added, nodding. "From my understanding, theoretically, she could simply live on forever between the barrier. Half mortal, half other, but.. it goes against everything a Seer represents. Death comes to everyone, and death is by no means an end. Why live forever in half, when she can pursue a comfortable after in eternity? So, she doesn't allow herself to stay in the in-between for too long, and as a result, her body is aging, where at some point she will eventually fade like everyone else. She chooses so."

Gal made a little noise, some mix between surprise and interest as they reached the front of the Cornerclub. Revyn did a little head bow towards Ambarys.

"You have a good night, I'll see you." Revyn made to continue walking when Ambarys half reached for him but didn't quite grab.

"Erm- Actually, Revyn, I've been meaning to speak with you." Revyn paused, looking to him a bit expectantly. Ambarys inhaled but glanced over at the other person present, and whatever he was going to say died behind his throat. He dropped his hand. "Uhm, well. When are you not busy?"

Revyn raised a brow, "You know my hours."

Ambarys chuckled, but it was awkward and short, "yeah, ah. Could you come by after you're done at work at some point this week?"

Revyn gave a little nod, "Certainly, is everything okay?"

"Fine! Everything's fine, just wanted to discuss something."

"Okay," Revyn did the little dismissive head bow again, stepping away, "I can do that. Get some rest, good night Ambarys."

"Good night Revyn," he said back before nodding towards the dragonborn, "and you too."

"Good night," Gal waved back, but Ambarys was already halfway up the steps and moving onto the front terrace of his shop. Gal moved back to keep up with Revyn as the dunmer was half waiting on separate steps that led to his own place just a little further down the way. He was fishing for his key, as Gal sort of bumped him with his hip, a soft little laugh on his throat. "he likes you."

"I'm well aware." Revyn didn't look up, "I'm sure that's what the topic of choice will be about, but I've already prepared several avenues of dealing with whatever he hands me."

They made their way to the front door, where Revyn seemed to finally find the key with a little huff. Gal shifted, and this felt strangely all too familiar.

"He seem's an honest fellow," Gal said after a moment, "he'd probably be good for you."

Revyn snorted, "oh you misunderstand," he pressed the key into the lock but left it set there, crossing his arms in front of him, "I don't do relationships."

It was Gal's turn to cross his arms, almost kindly mocking the way Revyn was standing when he said, "I didn't quite take you as the casual affair sort."

"Oh, _no_. I don't do anything," he reiterated, "I work. That's about it. Relationships are problems for other people."

"Wait-" the dragonborn seemed to regard him a long moment when he said, "have you never-?"

"Whatever you're thinking, probably not," Revyn tilted his head up, leveling him with a look, "I realized rather early on that courtships are long and arduous processes, and it just never seemed worth the trouble."

"Courtships?" Revyn blinked at the way the other said it, when Gal went on with, "Courtships have.. well, my understanding of them, are nice affairs. I've.. well, I know of types of courtships that involve gift-giving, making food, honouring your chosens crafts. Being close and loving someone is a wonderful experience, or seems to be anyways."

Revyn scrunched up his face a bit, "It's closer to your movement being closing monitored, chaperoned, and never being alone during the process. A lot more along the lines of families coming together and making a deal, where your possible engagement is a legal agreement more than anything. It's not uncommon for one party to not have much if any say in the process. It's forbidden to be alone with them, let alone engaging in untoward activities before marriage. Courtship is a nightmare."

Gal seemed to process this, a hum low in his throat, "Revyn," a slight pause, then, "it doesn't really sound as though a relationship is the problem."

"A relationship is the _entire_ problem, what are you even talking about?"

"Well, what if you didn't have to do any of the above listed," Gal implored, "think plainly about it. What if you had the option to simply be with someone? What if the courtship was what I was talking about instead if it's important to you?"

"I don't see the point in musing theoretical-"

"Do it anyway," he let his arms drop from where they were crossed, "if a courtship was being able to have privacy, being able to wake up beside that person and touch them freely and simply enjoy their presence with no repercussions, get to know them before marriage with no outside influence, would you do it?"

Revyn sighed, bringing up the base of his palm to rub at his brow as he thought. "I-" The dunmer went quiet, glancing off.

Chipping away at what a courtship is to him is to have him completely rework what a relationship was. Reframing it _wasn't_ possible, and it was confusing to consider, but- he sighed. He's been doing that a lot more recently.

Of _course_ , he's considered how different things would be if he didn't have to be held accountable culturally; if he felt he could be with someone and keep that safe and untouched by anyone, he might have done it. _Might_ have. There was still quite a fear of being vulnerable and known by someone that was.. just scary. It was _scary_. Not only that, but he couldn't really know if not only would he stop having feelings for them, but what if _they_ stopped loving _him_? What if they grew bored? What if-

Revyn frowned, staring a bit at the leather strapped up along Gal's arm. Disregarding all of that, the most realistic scenario to allow something like that would mean someone from outside of his culture showing genuine interest in him, which simply wasn't going to happen; because the sort of people that have repeatedly shown him an interest in a very romantic sense, and not simply sexual, have all been dunmer. All traditional, all restricted to the very same rules that he is. If he wasn't-

 _No_.

No, he has principles. He can't just do whatever he wants simply because it seems appealing. He was told that their bodies were weak willed and sometimes temptation was quite the drug, but he was a grown adult, and he's capable of preventing anything from happening. He had a reputation, he has worked so hard to keep his record clean and untarnished to get involved in a mess like courting the wrong way. Of - of doing things out of their norm. Llavrana would see straight through him, it was too horrific a situation to consider and - and -

But -

The very concept of doing simple tasks in his day to day, and someone comes up from behind to wrap their arms around him, press kisses against the back of his neck, his cheeks, was a yearning he didn't really want to awaken in front of someone. Thoughts of being able to simply lean against someone, talk to them openly, have someone run their fingers through his hair, slip their hands along his waist, up his thighs- Revyn realized he had gone quiet, pressing his lips together a bit firm as he quietly responded with, "it's complicated."

Gal was quiet too, and after a short while stepped forward a fraction. His voice was low, private, when he said, "We don't need to delve into this tonight, but you've allowed me a great deal of insight into a culture I've never been given access to before. I didn't know how dunmeri courtships worked, or about your wakes, and it is.. all so very fascinating to me." there was a soft lilt to his voice as he added, "watching you in the process of ritual work was an honouring experience, and the more I get to understand you the more I want to know. While there is a weight above everyone tonight, I want you to know I really enjoyed spending that time with you."

Revyn finally reached his eyes, looking at the eye slots and still seeing the soft glow behind. His smile was small, and there was a warmth in his chest he didn't quite understand when he said, "I.. I enjoyed being able to show you."

Gal made a soft sound, "I know you offered food, but would you be averse to allowing me to do it instead?" Revyn blinked up, a bit confused, and while he opened his mouth to presumably say something along the lines of 'me making food was meant as a thanks for you', Gal continued before he got the chance, "for no other reason than I simply wish to see you again, and would rather not put you to work. I want to talk more, and I hate making you stand in the cold each time in order to do it."

Revyn felt a bit at a loss on what to say, before thinking; "Do you have a home here? I didn't think you lived in town."

"I don't," Gal made a gesture vaguely behind him, "There is a cabin by the farms on the outskirts of the city. It use to belong to a friend of mine, but she got married and moved to Bravil in Cyrodiil. She traveled a lot, and it was mostly a place she use to stay a night or two when returning from overseas, but gave me the key when she didn't need it anymore." there was a soft smile in his voice as he spoke, fond, "Said I could get more use out of it than she would at this point, and wanted to make sure the Cabin didn't fall into decay or become inhabited by bandits. It's a fifteen-minute walk from the front gate, just past Hollyfrost Farm."

Revyn hummed, "I sort of assumed you were staying at the inn in town."

"That would be a rather expensive stay," Gal chuckled, "It's a comfortable place, and I feel maybe you'd appreciate some time away from this here. A change in scenery does wonders, I've found."

Revyn looked his mask over in thought, gesturing towards him with a faint smile. "I don't suppose I'll have to wear a blindfold to dinner, lest you intend to keep pulling that thing forward all night to eat."

The dragonborn seemed confused a moment, before it clicked. He extended his hand, "I'll let you in on a little secret."

Revyn stared at his open palm, confused, but accepted it after only some brief deliberating. Gal's hands were still warm and still bare with the sigils still slowly fading against his skin; his palms were rough, calloused, fingertips brushing against his wrist and Revyn didn't have much time to think about it further once Gal stepped closer, almost toe to toe as he pulled his hand upward. Revyn pressed his lips together, brows furrowed, not really sure what was happening as his fingers brushed over the coarse stone of the mask by the hairline, tracing down where the path lead, and where Gal eventually let go of his wrist. Revyn almost asked what he was supposed to find, when his thumb brushed just below the nose and felt something dip in that.. wasn't there.

Revyn drew up his other hand, realizing there was a crease that spanned horizontally just beneath the nose, feeling it curve down closer to where a jawline would be. He dipped his thumb towards the stone under the crease, watching in fascination as it vanished _through_ the stone.

"It's an illusion," Revyn said after a moment, tracing the outline as he figured out where the stone stopped and the image began, finding it was almost entirely the lower jaw, which was awfully convenient. His hand drifted, a bit thoughtlessly, mostly watching as his fingertips vanished, forgetting briefly there was a _person_ beyond the illusion, as he made contact with said person behind it. Revyn pulled back abruptly, heat racing to his cheeks when he realized what he was doing, clearing his throat, "ah, well no blindfold then."

Revyn didn't really know why he didn't move away, swallowing as he said, "well, if you want to make me dinner, you're going to have to explain why half of your mask is like that."

When the dragonborn chuckled then, Revyn felt it in his _chest_. Shivering from something other than the cold, and was he breathing too loud? Revyn didn't pull back when he felt a hand brush against his own, taking it, and Gal's voice was a soft reverberation of privacy when he said, "Would tomorrow be alright?"

Revyn felt a little helpless and he didn't even _know_ why. Nothing was happening, nothing was-

"Okay," and he flinched a little at how small and shaky that came out before clearing his throat and saying, "Ye- yes, tomorrow. Tomorrow would be fine."

"Good," and Gal sounded warm as he said it, and before Revyn could fully process what was happening, the dragonborn - the _dragonborn_ \- pulled Revyn's clasped hand up to his face, and he felt a press of a mouth against his middle knuckle. His hand was released, where Gal said his goodnight before walking away.

Revyn stood dumbstruck in that spot for a very long time.

 _Oh_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually remember if Dragon Priest's have the ability to shout or not, but if they don't that's bullshit and therefore we're ignoring that (also I've always felt the masks had to be half illusion. How tf u shouting and it's not flying off your face??). The specific Mask Gal has is _Krosis_ , which is enchanted with a 20% bonus to Lockpicking, Archery, and Alchemy. Not important to the story, but just a lil fun fact. -- and yes, Gal's cabin is Traitors Post, because it's a cute af cabin and uhhh I'm basically going to ignore the fact that bandits reside there in-game THAT close to a major city. That is Gal's Residence (not the murder house), instead, because I wanted him to have a place.
> 
> "Why did you spend so much time describing his outfit?" This fic is self-indulgent pls hear me out bc _this_ is his outfit bc I play Skyrim on ps4 and there are no mods to give spouses clothing and therefore I'm doing it here. These are "formal" ritual garb bc???? I said so.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! (Many of the dunmeri customs are accurate! I added some flare to it, but the cremation/believing death is only the beginning, are major factors to dunmeri funerals -- and I want to specify there is zero social commentary about any specific culture or religion involved in my depictions/interpretation of dunmeri culture. Most aspects of it derive from personal religious trauma, as well as aspects from celtic/welsh witchcraft intermixed with what I know is canon with dunmeri culture/practices. I only pull from things that have to do from my own culture/life experiences.)
> 
> Dunmeri Translations:  
>  _daesohn_ : "Brother"  
>  _Hla_ : "little"  
>  _hla'jul_ : "Baby"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Nothing super important to add today, just a gentle reminder to take care of yourselves out there and I hope everyone is safe and doing well. Enjoy!
> 
> //Gal's full name isn't supposed to be written out so if you see it yell at me!!!!

Revyn laid in bed awake, for _hours_.

He felt his chest and cheeks burning, inhaling sharply and half-convinced he'd breathe in smoke. His skin felt hot, in a weird in-between of feeling as though the surface of his bed could simply swallow him up and painfully aware that it just hasn't yet. 

Lying on his back, he was staring up at his ceiling in a mixture of panic, anxiety, and - and maybe excitement, and he didn't know which one was more confusing and why he was getting worked up at _all_ , but it was making him feel strangely pressed, with a weight like hands on his shoulders pinning him down.

It had taken him too long to come back to himself, finally having forced himself out of the cold to unlock his front door and all but slamming it behind him. He didn't mean for it to sound so angry, but he was tense and struck with the immense realization that he hadn't been paying close enough attention to have seen that coming. Revyn stepped through his home with nervous haste as he reassessed every interaction, every comment, and the space they filled near each other and found that ah, there were some- there were in fact some signs. Yanking clothing from himself and folding them sharply, because he was filled by too much unstable energy as he was beginning to reach an after-ritual haze. His spirit was tired and used, and after such a draining process was supposed to be reaching some calm equilibrium, but he was only disrupting that as he recalled warm laughter and hands brushing along his inner leg and-

He dropped his folding as his elbows landed on his living chamber table with a thud, hunched over with his hands pressed against his face, exhaling shakily.

Oh _no_.

Frowning, he shook his head and grabbed the folding again because _no_. Nope. Nuh-uh. He barely _knows_ him. They met not _that_ long ago and this is nothing. It was nothing! His movements were jerky, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he went through the short process of preparing himself for sleep. It was just a minor lapse in judgment was all, and maybe in whatever culture Gal came from this behaviour is typical, and there is a good chance Revyn was making something entirely out of nothing.

It was _fine_. It was completely and entirely alright because even if it wasn't, Revyn was an adult with complete control of his own actions and it wasn't as though he doesn't know how to deal with a mess such as this. Yes, what he needed to do was simple, exceptionally so, and what he needed to say to shut down whatever it is that the dragonborn - _the dragonborn!_ \- was trying to pull was _simple_. He's stopped advancements before, he's stopped untoward comments and wandering hands alike, and this will just be another instance of letting someone down, gently or otherwise, and yet, for some reason, he was lying in bed and losing sleep.

Losing sleep over someone who's face he doesn't even know, he thought a tad bitterly. Losing sleep over a silly low drawl, and polite conversation, and - and hands, hands on him, against his ankle and trailing up towards his thigh, light touches against his wrist that dragged him closer and traced the stone along his face, warm and close with the really soft press of lips against the back of his hand, and -

A helpless little sound escaped his throat.

His fingers kept brushing the spot, thumb tracing circles around it, and feeling disgusted with himself on how badly he wanted to feel that again.

Seeing him tomorrow was possibly a terrible and poor idea; he worried particularly due to the fact he feels so confused and uncertain as why this was so hard for him to let go. Is that really _all_ it took for him to feel this flustered? A friendly enough voice, a few kind favours, and a kiss against his hand? How many years has he been rejecting potential suitors for _this_ to be what does him in? Suddenly all alert and interested in - in what? In _who_? Hot all over like he'd placed himself in the cremation pit to burn alive.

He rubbed the base of his palms hard against his eyes, rubbing in frustrated circles. Speaking clearly into the room that he was absolutely _not_ interested and that he's simply lonely, and the kiss threw him off. That's all. It probably didn't mean what he thinks it does, and it might be a sort of goodbye to whatever culture the dragonborn grew up in. It meant nothing. So why was his heart racing like he ran a mile? Why did his cheeks feel as though he was still lighting fires at the cauldron? Revyn sucked in a sharp breath and felt a mixture of annoyance and as though his chest was full of battering moths and he just _couldn't_ get to sleep.

It's not a date. Gal made it clear he simply wanted to see him again.

Revyn realized how stupid that sounded as soon as the thought crossed his mind because _yes_ , obviously he's aware that's what dates are for. This was _different;_ because well.. well for starters, the other person is supposed to be the hero of legend, the possible savior of all of Tamriel, all heroics and mystery and grandeur and Revyn was - ah, a merchant. A merchant who doesn't leave his door to go any further than the market down the way, whos only real admirable trait was his skill with spoken and written languages, but wasted his exceptional literacy on reading poorly written romance novels, and got flustered over a hand kiss, and a _polite_ one at that.

Revyn flipped onto his side to face the wall, huffing angrily. This was fine.

It was fine because he is an adult. His principles were an intrinsic part of him, and this was just another bump in the road like all the times before it. He's shot down honest attempts at courting in the past, rather practiced at it actually, and this will simply be another note in the margins of his life that can be marked off and forgotten. It probably only feels different because he's been having those dreams as of late, and the ache in him has gotten worse. It's still not unlikely he is reading too much into nothing, and by this time tomorrow, the air will be cleared up with no confusing feelings attached.

Besides, why would someone like Gal, who can't even _risk_ saying his full name, have any interest in an open book that lives in a slum in Stormcloak territory?

Gal, who escorted him away from a bad situation without any prompting, who walked him home, who actually came to his shop after to support his business, who snuck a stolen item back to its owner after he noticed and _handled_ Revyn's momentary panic. The dragonborn, who wanted to reassure that he wasn't canceling plans because he did not want to go to them, who helped with his boot, and listened as Revyn led him through rites, letting himself be taught and guided and receptive to advice. Of compliments, and kindness, and patience that filled him with every step that led him home and- and he couldn't fight the stupid minor smile that fought its way against his lips, before pushing his face against his pillow with a groan, fingers burying themselves against his sheets. He inhaled sharply and forced it down again, swallowing whatever was trying to manifest, because he's just so confused as to why this felt so much different than before.

There had to be some way to simplify this to himself; a way to break it down and understand where this was stemming from, so he can dismantle it and move on.

Gal was..- 

He was nice.

Revyn turned his head back to the side, letting his cheek rest against the palm of his hand on his pillow.

There was.. warmth. Warmth and gratitude and curiosity attached to how he regards the other, as he tried to weigh the pro's and con's of what he's facing here.

The pros were a number of things; Gal was useful. Revyn made an exhale with humour, pulling his blankets up over his shoulders. Very useful, actually. He was also polite, and kind, and there was so much mystery attached to him it was difficult not to wonder about him. Difficult not to wonder what sort of person Tamriel was relying on to stop the end of days. Difficult not to wonder what his eyes looked like under all that stone - how he smiled, and what the shape of his nose looked like. Revyn at least recognized, even if he wasn't willing to admit to out loud, that he liked the low thrum of Gal's voice. His accent was completely unplaceable, though he briefly tried, warm and rich and their last conversation was still settled against him like a fitted glove. Liked his peculiar pattern of speech, the mirth that carried, and _ah_ \- he really liked the way Gal says his name.

There was a trill attached to the way he rolled his vowels, enunciated and neat and he'd never heard his name said so cleanly.

Delighted by how Gal went about and said a great many things, and he's so _well-spoken_ too.

And tall.

Revyn pulled his legs up a little; Gal was a _very_ tall man. Revyn was fairly average in height as heights go, and he's not one to feel particularly little even around larger folks, especially the sort of Nords that pass through his shop. For Gal, his height only seemed to add to his charm, and he supposes it makes a great deal of sense for the person made to save the world to be built like an absolute mountain; but Gal was also light of step, had a calm disposition. He was large but did not carry himself too high and it was particularly endearing, now that he thought about it.

He's getting sidetracked.

Revyn settled that the pros were; Gal was pleasant, charming, kind, had a nice voice, and made Revyn feel really good each and every time they've bumped into each other, and Revyn decidedly rather liked him.

The cons were, unfortunately; Revyn rather liked him.

' _It's a challenge_ ', Revyn thought, a bit sardonically, because why wouldn't it be? This had to be some divine test of faith or strength in him to prove that he can still desire something and someone if of course, that's actually what he's feeling, and still be able to deny it and stick to his principles. It shouldn't be that hard, he thinks, because all he has to do is continue on as he has been. Say no, make it clear nothing can happen, and _let it be known_ that he would never allow it to get that far to begin with, because he simply does not have the time. Heavy petting and sex are strictly forbidden before any sort of legal union, and why in all of Tamriel would Gal ever agree to something so serious if he's presumably looking for a good time? Revyn will simply have to deal with the disappointment of finding someone that made him feel like he'd caged a nesting swarm of moths in his chest, and continue on his life with nothing to be done about it. Besides, why even bother getting involved with someone destined to possibly die? What sort of future is he asking for, wanting someone who may be gone tomorrow?

Revyn sort of settled it then and there; he was going to let Gal down gently if the dragonborn attempts anything, and they could continue as friends for as long as Gal continued to stay around. Wanting someone and wanting something did not change that he had to do as he was told and expected, in fear of repercussions that just aren't worth the trouble. He had to keep his hands to himself, he had to stop himself from going too far, exactly as he has been for the past few decades. He wasn't going to break because of some mild attraction, he was bigger than that; besides, he didn't know what the other even looked like, and for all he knows he never will. How hard could saying no to a blank mask actually be?

It took some time, as Revyn couldn't quite shut his thoughts out, to finally fall asleep, and when morning came he opted not to think on the sort of dreams he had.

xxx

Revyn was leaned against stone, out of breath with his hand slotted over his mouth to muffle the laughter that he couldn't keep from bubbling up.

There were actual _tears_ in his _eyes_ , gasping for air and feeling as light as could be. Blurrily he looked up at his walking companion and was greeted with similarly shaking shoulders, paused beside him with his hand planted by the dunmer's shoulders; laughing from his chest but sounding of windchimes and it made him feel the way he thinks walking barefoot on smooth creek stones would be like.

Gal came by a couple of hours before Revyn opened shop, the sun still low on the horizon and the shop owner still in his pajamas; he brought a package with him, dropping it on Revyn's merchant counter as he pulled a smaller package out. Revyn quickly worked on dressing himself in the other room, only to return to find that Gal had brought him breakfast. Brushing his fingers through his unkempt hair to somewhat tame what direction it all was facing, Revyn smiled faintly at the dragonborn who was leaning against the counter, scooting the pastry the dunmers direction. Revyn accepted it as Gal explained he had more time than he anticipated and wanted a shopping partner, 'since you seem to know who's being honest and who's willing to rob me blind,' and Revyn snorted and acquiesced as he quickly stuffed his mouth with the very clear peace offering as it was given.

Revyn noted the larger package sitting on his table but Gal insisted he leave it be until he closed up shop for the night. 'It's a gift,' he'd explained, and left it at that as Revyn picked briefly at the wrapping and set it in his bedroom for later. While Revyn only briefly insisted that Gal didn't need to get him anything, his friend equally insisted it was self-indulgent and to not worry about it too much.

He recognizes he probably should have said something by now about how he wasn't interested in anything, but not only was Revyn not fully sure he was actually being flirted with and might simply be reading too deeply into something, but he wasn't even fully convinced he wasn't enjoying it as well. There was something.. nice, about the way Gal spoke to him. He found himself readily leaning against gentle but easy conversation, and Revyn had never liked someone so quickly and steadfast in his life, and his worries from the night before felt like a lifetime ago as they shopped and chatted, and when Gal walked him home after, his face hurt from smiling so much.

Revyn admonished himself for outright not telling Gal what his intent was with all of this, but focusing on it too long soured his mood and decided it wasn't a fight worth dealing with at the moment. Not when his stomach felt all up in knots when a hand had brushed his lower back to move him forward through a crowd, not when Gal seemed to fully embody the morning sun and Revyn hadn't felt so light and warm in a very long time.

There was worry there, that acknowledging out loud that he wasn't supposed to get caught up in whatever it was that was happening, would mean losing Gal as a friend; scaring him off wasn't his intent, and he tried to justify his own silence on the matter until he knew under no uncertain terms that this was exactly what was happening.

So, he opened shop and continued through his day as if he wasn't somehow both nervous and excited about seeing him again.

The day was going so well too; a good average influx of customers and trade ratio, nobody too rowdy or rude, and his thoughts began to drift towards the odd package Gal gave him for later that night, nearly calling it to close early, when someone came through the front door. Revyn blinked, smiling up at the Imperial as he stepped through with a gust of wind trailing behind.

"Ah! Good evening, Calixto," Revyn leaned comfortably on the front of his merchant counter, "what brings you in today?"

"Would you believe me if I said it was your smile?" the Imperial chuckled, to which Revyn rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Calixto stepped up to the counter, eyes glancing around the store, specifically towards the doorways leading to other rooms. "Eh, suppose that _was_ a bit corny." he looked back over to the dunmer, smiling when he said, "you seem rather relaxed today Sadri, good day?"

Revyn gave a little shrug, "so far. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yeah, uh, sorry I'm looking for a pair of pliers, actually. Have any?"

Revyn hummed, thinking as he turned around to glance at the shelves behind him. "Actually, I might." he stepped back, trying to see if he would have put them in a relic section or tools, asking over his shoulder, "got some tinkering you're working on?"

"Somethin' like that," there was a creak as elbows leaned on the counter, "not to change the subject any but I noticed you at the market this mornin'."

Revyn scanned his shelves, pushing a few things aside as he searched, "Yes well, there is only one market."

"Big guy was with you," Calixto continued, "you two seemed.. friendly."

Revyn found what he was looking for, finding the tool in a tinted glass jar, the metal clanking the other loose tools as he pulled it free. He turned back around to face the Imperial, making a point to open the tool to prove the joints weren't rusted or stuck before placing it on the counter between them. "He's a friend of mine, so I'd hope we'd appear as such. That'll only cost you a gold."

"You're not together?"

Revyn squinted at him, startled, "What?"

At his tone, Calixto gave him an open-palmed surrender, " _Sorry_ , sorry, just curious. That was nosey, I just like to know what's happenin' in the city." he let his palms drop below the counter, part of his shirt moving by the hip, "not much else new is goin' on, and I heard you laughing, which jus' felt so out of place in this city as of late. Figured there was no harm in askin' how you were doin'."

Revyn felt only a little bad about immediately getting hostile, but there was a distinct chill that raced along his spine that he wasn't fully sure where it came from, trying to relax a bit as he said, "No, no, it's fine. Uhm," awkwardly chuckling to try and settle the sudden discomfort he felt; Calixto was harmless, he was just a little weird and it was silly he felt strange over some questions. "I don't, ah- I don't involve myself in relationships if that's what you're implying. Gal is just a friend of mine who needed a bit of advice at the stalls."

Calixto tilted his head, "Gal?"

Revyn gave a short nod, "Well, I doubt that's his actual name, but it's the alias he's given me." he set his elbows on the counter, crossing his arms inward as he added a bit conversationally, "He's a private sort, and I respect that, considering what he is."

The Imperial acquiesced, nodding with a sniff, eyes looking back towards the direction of Revyn's living chambers. "So I suppose that means he's not here."

"Why? Did you want to meet him?" Revyn responded bemused, "I'm not his keeper, you know. He's usually running around the city, if you want to have a chat."

Calixto smiled, "ah, that won't be necessary, I was just curious." and something about his shoulders seemed to relax further, eyes glancing almost unnoticed to the dunmers mouth when he asked, "How close to closing are you?"

Revyn checked the clock above his doorway, a bit curious himself, before jolting a bit. "Less than five." he returned a look to the Imperial before saying, "I usually don't push out customers right away around closing time, but I, unfortunately, have plans tonight and will have to ask you to make this quick, if that's alright?"

Calixto froze, his hand hidden under the counter by his hip seemed to have his shirt shift back, before it appeared on the merchant counter. "Oh, no yeah that's perfectly alright. I just needed the pliers. One gold you said?" Revyn nodded, and so the Imperial dug out his coin purse, saying, "what kinda plans you have going on, might I ask?"

"Dinner with a friend," he accepted the gold as it was passed, "they should be here soonish, and I need to get ready. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Calixto was still watching his mouth as he spoke, before he shook his head, smiling brightly as he stepped back from the counter, pliers in hand. "Not tonight. See ya' Sadri, have fun, and stay safe out there."

Revyn waved him off, only somewhat disquieted as he said a quick goodnight, Calixto closing the door firmly behind him when he left. Revyn rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the strange pinpricks again as he had in the alley the night before, not really understanding why speaking with Calixto always left him a little unnerved. He settled it was probably just some mild paranoia, and tried not to think on it further; Calixto was _harmless_ , he was just a bit strange, and Revyn's met all sort of strange folks in his time. Calixto might just be a bit more so than usual, as Revyn set to lock up the front, going through his full closing process, and decided he was being silly.

Counting coin, putting notes in his ledger to deal with later, he made sure everything was put away before moving off to his bed-chamber.

He'd been spending all day thinking about that stupid package, his eyes finding it quickly as he stretched, sauntering over to pluck at the parchment before he turned it over. Revyn pulled at the thin rope that's tied it up, loosening its bindings before placing it back on the table. It was decently sized; pulling it open he was a bit surprised to find several different types of clothing folded and stored inside.

There was a folded up note pressed on top, where he pressed his middle finger along the edge to unfold it.

_Try this and see if you like it._

Revyn furrowed his brows a bit, pulling the first piece off the top. There was a whole outfit folded here, breathily chuckling as he shook open what was in his hands, and was delighted at the texture of the material; it was a draped top, heavy, white and thin, sleeves a bit flowy with a plummeting neckline that was not quite as drastic as his ritual garb, though he found it's style choice charming, because, well - _Ah_. He must have really liked the outfit that Revyn wore yesterday, then. The conventional part of his brain told him not to encourage this behavior, and not humour him by doing what he asked, because this was clearly the other's way of making it clear he wanted to look at him and this was his way of asking permission to do so.

He looked at the message again, before running his hand down the sleeve. It wasn't as though Gal was making demands of him, and besides, it was just a request; a nice suggestion really, and Gal already went well out of his way to give him something that he absolutely did not have to. Rubbing a section of the cloth between his thumb and forefinger, he idly noted that he sort of liked the material too. Revyn was so used to wearing a variation of one threadbare thing since he worked all the time, it seemed harmless to try something different for a dinner; and technically speaking, it wasn't anything Gal hadn't already seen. Technically, it was a little less, and realistically, it made figuring out what to wear exceptionally easy.

Part of him realized he was making excuses, though he smothered those thoughts as he unfolded pieces of the garment to see what all he was dealing with.

Soft, pale, and loose was the top. The trousers on the other hand were much darker with less give, accompanied by belts that seemed quickly unnecessary as the garment looked a little smaller than what he typically wore, checking the time again to be sure he had enough to try everything on, and hoping he had enough to put on something else if it came down to it before Gal arrived. The pinprick sensation lessened the more he focused on folding his day clothes away, starting with the deeply coloured trousers and pulling them up his hips. They fit fairly better than he expected, hooking easily above his waist, though it hugged his thighs and rear a bit more than he was use to. He had to do a few personal adjustments to keep from it being too snug, but let it be after a moment as he moved to slip on the shirt. Much looser, and he supposes that made sense for the added belt as he slipped it on, tucking in the bottom and rolling up the sleeves to his elbows to keep it from dragging past his fingertips.

Definitely not something he would typically wear, as he strapped some of his pouches to the hips, walking to his bathroom to glance at himself in the mirror.

It hugged his waist very tight. Turning around to look at his rear and - ah.

He looked rather good, but maybe he should have something drape further down so that all of him wasn't so very obvious.

Standing forward, he brushed his hand over his exposed collar, adjusting how it sat over his shoulders and cleaning up the tucked pieces in the belt to straighten them up before moving to examine his face.

His fingers brushed over deep worry lines, crows feet at the edge of his eyes, and sighed. Staring at them wasn't going to make them go away, and instead focused on grabbing a comb. He spent a little bit of time cleaning himself up, and overall he looked put together as he stepped away from the mirror, watching himself a long moment and reminding himself that this wasn't a date.

It was just dinner. They were just having dinner.

Returning to his living chamber, Revyn snagged one of his few pairs of boots he felt would match the colour of the trousers when he realized he had forgotten the last article of clothing, still folded up on top of the opened wrappings. He took very little time strapping up the laces of his boots, running his palms down the front of his legs as he stood up from his bed, reapproaching his table. Stepping over, Revyn picked up a decently sized coat, fingers brushing over minor rough patches of damage, parts worn thin and frayed. Despite the outside looking a little rough, the inside had a thick layering of fur, and as he brought it closer to examine a weird dark spot along the waist, his thumb tracing over some stitching, he got hit with a strong distinct smell of pine, firewood, and smoked coals.

Revyn looked at the coat a long moment, unnecessarily looking around his room as if to verify that he was in fact, alone, before raising the collar up and burying his face against the fur.

He inhaled deeply, and he was reminded of bonfires in the ashwastes that he use to sit around with his friends. He'd been a tween then, one of the older girls would bring a lute and they'd make up songs in a circle where nobody knew the lyrics or they always changed.

So many of them were buried under piles of ash across the sea; if they saw how much he'd grown since then, he wonders if they'd recognize him anymore. What sort of things they would be doing now if things had been different.

Revyn took a seat, coat pressed against his face, fingers buried, and bunching up the thick scruff of the neck as he held it up.

Gal gave him one of his coats.

He wasn't really sure if Gal realized what kind of significance something like this had in Dunmeri culture; sharing clothing was typically reserved for couples, but Revyn wasn't foolish enough to not recognize that there were next to no other culture that treated something arguably very small with that sort of significance. It was usually a suggestive gesture for dunmer, but the likelihood of Gal knowing that was pretty low. There was a normal implication of giving someone a hand-me-down, and all of them were rather positive, so this was easily as friendly an item as everything else that had been given so far. Revyn hadn't forgotten how quickly Gal had tried to offer his coat yesterday too. That being said, it was also very likely that the dragonborn was aware that the clothing he was given wasn't exactly made for Skyrim weather any more than his ritual garb had been the night before. 

It was thoughtful, actually.

Revyn pulled the coat back, running his fingers over the fur, wondering what animal it use to be when he heard a knock on the door.

His heart skipped a beat, feeling suddenly and inexplicably anxious all over again, before groaning in annoyance as he stood. It was fine. It was _fine!_ He's had dinner with friends in the past, don't think it over too hard.

Revyn glanced at himself in the mirror one last time, brushing a few fly hairs back behind his ear and feeling a spike of self-consciousness as he pulled the coat over his shoulders. With a quick breath, he blew out his lanterns as he walked, undoing the deadbolt and doing his absolute best to not think on the matter further as he opened the door.

The wind was quick to blow some flurries into his front entrance, stepping out with his key in hand as he greeted Gal with a short smile.

The dragonborn looked as he always did, heavily armoured and armed to the teeth, but his shoulders were relaxed as he watched Revyn button up the remainder of his coat.

"No last-minute cancellations?" Gal said in greeting, his voice light and conversational, his hands folded comfortably in his coat pockets. Revyn shook his head, locking up before tucking away the key.

"Not tonight," he responded, a bit light, stepping up beside, "I'm starving, and you promised food."

"Good," Gal chuckled. "I think I made too much. I kept second-guessing myself on what you might like so I made a little bit of everything."

"Too much food has never been an issue for me," he smiled, following as Gal began to lead the way out of the Grey Quarter. "I look forward to it. Especially after you spoke so highly of your culinary skills this morning."

They chatted idly as they walked, though not about anything in particular as Revyn idly discussed a bit about some of the more peculiar things folks have attempted to trade in, eventually reaching the main street towards the front gates. It was comfortable, and whatever nerves he was suffering from before was put at ease as Gal led him out of the city. Slipping past the numerous tents, the main square a late-night murmur of voices and laughter, pops and sizzles of the fires burning between aisles that kept the downtown alight. The sun dipped low beyond the horizon, deep shadows cast against the stone from the high walls that surrounded them. 

It was strange in the very same sense it was subduing and exciting, feet finding the path out the city gates for the first time since- well, the first time he came to the city. He's never seen Windhelm facing away before, but his enthusiasm was subdued as one of the guards they walked past yelled their direction.

"Have a _good_ night, dragonborn." Revyn didn't miss the crude gesture that accompanied it. He felt the air leave him, deflating a bit as he picked up the pace. Gal clearly didn't notice, face forward, and thinking nothing of it as he waved them off, and for a moment Revyn thought maybe that would be the end of it and they could move along, when the other guard added, "keep him nice and warm for the both of us."

Revyn grabbed Gal by the wrist to keep him moving when the other straightened up, some tired plea of moving along dying behind his throat as the previous guard groaned out, "if you can break him in for the rest of us that'd be much appreciated."

Revyn was hit by a familiar wall of tired anger, but it was outweighed by his annoyance as he tried to keep the pair of them walking on with a disgusted grimace reaching his mouth.

"Finally get the grey skin to put out." he didn't flinch as much as his shoulders drew up. Heat raced to Revyn's cheeks, a mixture of shame, anger, and embarrassment as he tried to just move quickly, hand tight on the other's wrists to drag him if need be, "City's full of 'em, and _that_ one's got the gull to look the way he does and I've not seen him on his knees yet."

"Are they serious?" Gal's voice was low, incredulous as his footsteps slowed but Revyn was _pulling_.

"It's fine, can we please-"

"If he's a swallower or a squirmer, don't keep that to yourself, is all we're sayin'," a laugh, then, "though I'd like to be surprised when it's my turn to-"

"Don't you both have a war to die in?" Gal snapped over his shoulders, louder this time, stopping abruptly that Revyn was jerked back a bit, "or did you not do well enough in training to get out of guard duty?"

One of them straightened up, saying a bit sardonic, "Oh don't be sensitive, we're just-"

"No, you seem bored," his voice dripping in incredulous vitriol, "if you want I _can_ speak to your commander and have them adjust your rounds. Double it, triple it, what do you think? How long do you suppose it takes to lose body heat when you're standing in one spot for more than one shift?" Gal didn't turn fully to face them as he spoke, and Revyn felt the air shift. There was a.. a strange vibration in the air. He noticed one of the guard's shift, pinpricks against the back of his neck where goosebumps formed and raced down his spine; he wasn't the only one to feel it, as the pair of them stood a little bit more to attention.

Uncomfortably, the one who spoke first made a little nod, "That won't be necessary, dragonborn."

"Make sure it isn't," he started to walk again, glancing down at his wrist that Revyn had yet to let go of, "hypothermia can kill someone in ten minutes, so just make sure that doesn't set in. Have a good night you two."

Nothing more was said as they stepped along the path away from the city, and he didn't know if it was a result of him feeling so anxious to begin with, or he was some mixture of tired and giddy, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Gal just came up with some odd roundabout way to threaten to kill a guard that had Revyn snorting against his hands, trying to muffle the hiccups of his laughter because they were just _barely_ out of earshot of the Stormcloaks, but it was so _hard_.

Returning to the moment where he had to stop against the old stone architecture further down the path nearing the stables, catching his breath and it was unclear if Gal was laughing because the situation was actually that funny or if he was laughing because _Revyn_ was laughing so hard and it was contagious.

He was out of it for a good handful of minutes, the oppressive weight from before felt left behind as the barrier of Windhelm had been crossed and left. Maybe Gal was right, and he did just need a change of scenery.

He buried his face against his palms, his laughter slowing to giggles as he rubbed his hands down his cheeks as he said, " _oh_ , my sides-"

Gal helped pull him from the wall, his shoulders still shaking as he tried to get them walking again, "that wasn't _meant_ to be funny," but his voice was very pleased and warm, the pair of them slipping through the final steps away from the city that led to the road, Gal keeping close with his hands pressed against the small of his back and Revyn almost appreciated it for once, considering he didn't have any idea where they were heading.

Revyn cackled, calming down gradually as they moved on, "I jus'- I wasn't expecting something like _that_ from you is all." he put a hand back to his cheek when he said, "I don't remember the last time I laughed like that."

"That's a shame," and the smile in his voice was nice, as was the feeling of fresh snow under his boots crunching under every step, Gal waved towards the stableboy as they trailed down the way. "I don't remember the last time I heard something so lovely."

"Flirt," but his cheeks hurt and he felt like he was walking on air, "I've never seen a guard put in their place so quickly before. Thank you for that, but I hope you know that I can handle myself just fine."

"You shouldn't always have to," Gal responded, his hand doing a short dismissive wave, "besides, I remember _you_ telling me that you were trying to avoid getting into fights with the guards here. I'm saving you the trouble."

Revyn smiled, "I appreciate that. I'm ah-" subduing a bit, he sniffed; he tried not to think about what was said as much as the fact that anything was said at all, "I'm sorry you had to hear that."

Gal was shaking his head, "You do _not_ need to apologize for whatever _that_ was." he bumped the back of his hand against Revyn's, watching him as they walked, "They have their own issues to work through and that isn't your fault or problem." he bumped the dunmer, offering his elbow for Revyn to take as they traveled. The dunmer breathily chuckled, but acquiesced, resting his hand in the crook of the others arm, reassuring himself that these touches were harmless and it wasn't as though they were any place that someone who might care would see; which, reminded him.

"I hope you understand this is just _dinner_ ," Revyn reiterated, glancing off towards the farm that they were getting close to passing, his eyes to the thick forest surrounding the road along the water. "The only thing you're getting out of me is my presence and nothing else, I hope that's perfectly clear." a moment, then, "well unless you'll finally accept payment for some of the work you've done for me, which is a different matter entirely." Gal made a soft sound.

"Dinner and company are all I'm offering," he agreed, "this is whatever you want it to be, Revyn. The only thing I genuinely wanted out of this was to see you, everything else is optional."

The dunmer relaxed a fraction further, exhaling pleased. They walked in companionable silence for a good stretch, Revyn enjoying the walk, when he had a thought; "Are you aware that you give off an aura when you're acting all intimidating?"

Gal made a noise, clearly pulled from his own thoughts when he asked, "how so?"

"The air vibrates," he hummed, "you exuded threat. Is that natural or an aspect of what you are?"

"It's likely an aspect," Gal responded, "an interesting one I didn't know about. The air vibrates?"

"Felt like tangible anger," Revyn squinted, "or.. akin to speaking underwater."

Gal was quiet a long moment, nodding when he said, "dragons are like that."

Revyn pressed his mouth together, "well that makes sense if you're what? Part dragon?"

There was a snort, and then, "I'm not like... half-dragon, half-person, you know. I've got some draconic _blood_ , which is very different."

"You're telling me that if I removed your mask I wouldn't see any lizard features whatsoever?"

Gal's shoulders were shaking, laughing when he said, "Is _that_ what you think I look like?"

"I don't know!" Revyn gave a bit of an embarrassed smile, "I've not _seen_ you. I'm not sure what to think about what's under all of that." he looked forward, watching as they followed the path that followed the trail by the water, the farms passing, with the shore between them and the docks, where the distant sound of chatter trailed their way. "I _will_ say I don't think you're a nord. Or a breton, or Imperial for that matter."

Gal's voice was warm when he asked, "really now? What do you think I am?"

Revyn glanced up towards the mask, eyes dragging down the front of the other as he examined his gait, tongue pressed to the back of his teeth. "You don't shake hands like a nord, and your accent is far from the scruffed speech of Imperials." his eyes dragged back up to the others face, "Redgaurd and Breton have far darker skin than you have, but even then your accent doesn't match either, nor your dialect. You also don't shake hands like any of the above listed, because they hold hands for a much longer time than you do." there was a wall of tall tree's that they were approaching, as Revyn went on, "I'm convinced you're mer. No tail, and when I saw your hands yesterday they had no scales nor fur. A few easy things to get off the list."

Gal nodded, "you're very preceptive."

"No, you're not doing a very good job at hiding it." Revyn retorted, "I think you're either an Altmer or a Bosmer. More likely the former, as Bosmer males are incredibly short, and you're.. well, probably the tallest person I've ever met. Even by Altmer standards."

"I can neither confirm nor deny your theory," kind, adding, "but I will say I'll attempt to be a lot more cognizant of my behaviour based on the things you named."

"Well don't change for _my_ sake, but if you need to keep your identity closeted, it is likely other people may notice and you should be aware of that." After a moment, Gal gently turned them towards a slope, "I will say it is infinitely fascinating to me that it's possible that the legendary nordic hero isn't even a nord, and it feels almost ironic in some way I can't place."

The slope evened out, slipping through a low parting of thick brush, no longer hearing the rush of low waves against ice as Gal led him up a well-hidden path. The wind felt less biting the further they walked, and soon a few lights were seen through the thicket when Revyn continued, "though it is also very possible that you've taken these things into account, and you're just a well-educated nord who's very good at pretending."

"It's yet to be seen," and he seemed amused as they traveled the final amount out of the brush, and into a snow-covered clearing that led to a quaint cabin some yards away. The front had lanterns burning, a few sitting against the windows as Gal led the remainder of the way there.

It was.. well, pretty much what was to be expected. It was well maintained, out of the way, and pressed against a high cliff that kept it out of sight. High stones making it otherwise impossible to easily access from anywhere except the front; which, he supposed, made a great deal of sense considering the type of person who used it previously, and the current owner as it stands. It was humble, as they approached, Revyn noting an old fire pit close to the base of the cliff, a locked up shed, and as they stepped up on the porch, the wooden steps didn't creek, and the dunmer was able to get a good look at the otherwise empty front patio; barren and half covered in snow, save for a clean pile of firewood Gal kept stacked up the wall beside the front door.

Revyn did his best to remind himself this meant nothing, even as Gal unlocked the front door, leading him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun daaaa - i wanted to dedicate a full chapter to whats happening next so I needed to cut off early or else this chapter would go on forever. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!! (I am going yo hopefully have the update quickly after this is posted so here's to hoping editing doesnt take too long)
> 
> It _won't_ be a new outfit every chapter but I do want an excuse to showcase shit I want to put him in because I think he's cute. Example B:


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Guys it's getting close to fall again :'^)) I hope everyone is staying safe out there! I'm busting through chapters rather quickly comparatively so I don't have any real updates for anyone; again, I edit all on my own and if anything reads weird, let me know! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

There was a strong smell of applewood smoke and cooked meats that greeted them once they stepped inside.

Lanterns were lit, the open living space settled in a golden glow from the firelight and burning fireplace against the far wall. A closet was directly to their right, as Gal locked the door and started pulling off his overcoat, Revyn taking that as the sign to start working on undoing his clasps as well, fingers working deftly down. Revyn's eyes darted left and right, taking in his surroundings; There was a sizable table off-right of the center of the room, plates stacked with clean mugs resting upside down on top of them. Some plates were covered, while something was wrapped up in foil in the cooking spit. Four doorways in all, he noted, excluding the front door, all doors ajar, nothing locked and the room not overwhelmed in furniture, even as he eyed several rather tall and wide bookshelves filled to the brim that covered nearly every wall - there were so many books.

The more he looked, the more he saw piles of them, some stacked on tables, others disorganized on the floor but pushed aside in a clear attempt to clean up with no place to put them. The floors had interesting rugs with strange patterns on them that he did not recognize, but there were furs closer to the firepit. A bit more absently he noticed a dresser just through a cracked door to the upper right that seemed to lead to a bedroom, where on the left, opposite of the room, seemed to lead to a sort of armoury; noting the weapon stands and heavy closed boxes. 

It was clean, just cluttered; Gal moved around towards the windows to pull the lanterns back, drawing the curtains close. Revyn made it to the last clasp, letting the coat fall from his shoulders as he moved to hang it, but Gal gently stopped him with a hand on his shoulder before he got to the closet.

"You're my guest, I got it," and his voice was warm, pushing open the closet to hook it up, his head tilted towards the dunmer's direction almost as if doing a double-take when he said, "You wore it."

Revyn glanced down at himself, brushing his hands down the front of the trousers a tad self consciously. "Well yes, it fits surprisingly well and I worried I'd appear rude otherwise."

"I don't mind a bit of rudeness," and there was a smile in his voice as he finished putting the coat away, letting his hand fall to the door, closing it as he seemed to regard the dunmer a long moment, "I wasn't sure if you'd humour me or not, but I'm thankful you did. You look lovely, though I'm sure you would have looked incredible in anything you decided to wear," stepping forward, "I worried I was being too forward, but I'm glad it fits."

"I noticed you're particular towards open collars," Revyn tried to joke, feeling flustered and looked at but it wasn't a bad feeling per se, "to be truthful I wasn't even fully thinking about getting dressed up for dinner, but ah- made me realize that I ought to expand my wardrobe. I don't own many outfits for the sake of free time, so uhm-" was he talking too much? Was he oversharing? "no, this was uhm. This was -" Revyn tripped over his words trying to find the right one, "-.. er, thoughtful. Thank you." Great-great-great, good job, _why_ does he sound like he's just learned how to speak Common? Revyn chewed on the inside of his cheek, worried he sounded flat or disingenuous, but Gal chuckled the way honey falls and- it was fine.

"I rather liked the garment you wore last night," he replied, though it didn't seem all that difficult for him to admit. Revyn felt heat against the back of his ears as Gal stepped away towards the table, pressing his hand gently against Revyns elbow who followed without a word. "This was arguably an impulse decision when I left, but my impulses have yet to fail me. Either way, I'm glad you're here. Make yourself at home, I'm going to get out of my armour and I'll be right back, feel free to look around."

"Take your time," Revyn hummed, looking pointedly towards the cooking spit as he idly examined whatever it was that was roasting, Gal slipping away in the direction Revyn assumed was the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

The dunmer exhaled, rubbing against the heat that rose to his cheeks and back of his neck, willing it away as he waited.

It was just dinner, and he can handle a few compliments. Gal was just being nice, and it wasn't some issue if he was flirting. Revyn reminded himself he's dealt with worse than shy advances and if this was all Gal was going to do then he should be perfectly fine. Just..- just enjoy his companionship, which should be easy enough because Gal was pleasant company and enjoyable to be around. Revyn can encourage a simple friendship, set his cultural boundaries, eat whatever the dragonborn made -which smelled incredible- and then go home. Of all the plans he's made in his life this one should be difficult to make a mess of.

Revyn let his hands fall, brushing down the plummetting neckline of his shirt as he made some readjustments, straightening his clothing out as he let himself look around.

The many bookshelves that lined the walls were impossible to ignore, stepping up to the closest one that was about a foot taller than himself as he wondered if he'd recognize any. To his surprise, most of the tomes didn't have writing on the seams. He reached for a large red faded leather tome, struggling only barely to get it out as it was wedged in there; it was heavy, and the cover had no engravings or imprints on it either. The pages were a darkened yellow, faded, and smelled incredibly old as he opened the heavy front cover, looking for maybe a title or a name, but found neither. Flipping the first few pages gave him nothing, but once he made it to the first page with markings on it, they were just that - markings. Strange and old and completely incomprehensible to him, weird sigils and notes along the seams in a language that he did not recognize. Half moons and dragging down the page in straight lines that bled into page after page.

Was Gal an academic? Revyn closed the book, a soft plume of dust came spiraling from the pages as he placed it back in its spot with a bit of effort. Too many of these novels had nothing indicating what they were about, and the two other books that caught his attention had the same effect, just in different handwriting, different sigils, different levels of fading and smudges in ink and page wear. Can Gal actually understand what is in any of these? Is he just a collector? What even are they?

Revyn sighed, stuffing the novels away to perhaps ask about later, chewing on the side of his tongue as he stepped away. 

The floors looked swept, he noticed, staring at his feet, and it gave off the distinct feeling that Gal spent a good part of the day cleaning up, if his left-out broom by the door said anything. It was sweet, his eyes taking in the little personal items that Gal seemed to have scattered all over the place, until his eyes finally drifted towards the ajar door to the left.

There were swords leaning against a trunk that he could see from where he was standing, and saw no harm and well.. glancing in.

Revyn looked behind himself towards the bedroom door, which was still firmly closed. Deciding it was harmless, he slipped over; there were no lanterns burning in the room as he approached, pressing his palm against the ajar door as it slowly pushed open with a shy _creek_. He didn't step in, as he looked around, and.. ah.

There were a lot of weapons here.

Ancient looking axes and war hammers lined the walls, with old bows made of ebony and wood in a cluttered mess in the corner. There were a lot of trunks. He saw arrows, and staffs; some even in styles he's never seen before.

Revyn couldn't stop himself when he ducked in, a light blue sword with a strange glow catching his attention. He didn't pull it off the wall, because that seemed rude, but he did reach out and brush along the hilt, realizing then in awe that it was see-through and impossibly cold to the touch. There were others somewhat like it, noting at least one more in this shape and then a bow, when he caught sight of a strange glow buried under a light cloth; Revyn felt like he was snooping at this point, but what kind of weapon made a glow like that?

Curiosity got the better of him, carefully moving over weapon piles as to not disturb anything, slipping over to grab the cloth, pulling it aside.

It was a shortsword, he realized after his eyes adjusted to the brightness. Squinting, it emitted an ethereal light, almost like a soul, that was coming from an orb at the base of the hilt leading to the blade. It was- flawless. The gold held no wear, the blade itself perfectly polished, and otherworldly in its care that he was actually somewhat in awe by it. He picked it up; it was incredibly light, turning it over in his hands when a voice from behind started him.

"That's Dawnbreaker," and Revyn's attention snapped to the doorway where Gal was standing, arms crossed and relaxed in front of him, leaning in the doorframe. He was dressed down, in arguably nicer but comfortable clothing, though the mask remained. "I received that for cleansing a temple that had been defiled by a necromancer some months ago. I was told it was especially effective against undead, but I've never actually used it."

"Erm, I'm ah- I'm sorry for prying-"

"Don't be," and Gal stepped in, extending his hand forward for the dunmer to take, "I would have locked the door if I didn't want you in here. Be careful, I didn't really pick up in here and you could hurt yourself."

Revyn set the shortsword back down, placing the rag back over it as he dropped his eyes back to his feet, waving Gal's hand off as he stepped around the mess on the floor. He took one more glance over his shoulder as Gal dropped his hand back to his side, stepping out of the room where the dunmer followed.

"You've quite the collection," Revyn said, trying not to stare now that Gal stepped back into the light. He was in dark browns, gloveless though his sleeves were down and a belt around his waist. His arms were, uhm.

Revyn didn't know why he was staring, it should have been obvious, all things considering, but Gal was.. proportional. That's a good word. He didn't look outrageously muscular but he certainly looked as though he could get up close and personal in a fight with no fear of losing. He looked perhaps what he would want out of someone facing down the end of times and he was going to leave it at that, because any further descriptors made him feel warm and he didn't have much in the way of hiding it.

"I've done a fair deal of dungeon diving," was Gal's answer to a comment Revyn already forgot making. Watching as he gestured to the opposite side of the table for Revyn to take a seat, who did so wordlessly. "The sorts of treasure that have been left to be haunted by the ancient dead of deadra and dragon worshippers is.. rather plenty. I try and keep what I like and give away or sell what someone else may find useful." he moved some of the plates around as he spoke, Revyn placing his elbow on the tabletop to prop his chin against his palm, trying very hard not to stare as he's been given a definite shape of the person in front of him and it wasn't all armour and padding. "If you'd like, you can have your pick of some if you'd want to get some collectors coming in. They're good for trade, and I've no use for most of it."

Revyn quirked a smile, "that would be nice, thank you."

Gal spent a moment or two getting the table fully ready, telling Revyn more than once that he didn't need to help, and that he _genuinely_ wanted him to sit there while he got things ready. Joking about how he doesn't get to host often and hasn't in a long time. Revyn begrudgingly accepted but wasn't used to being served, and it made it hard to sit still until Gal somehow got him talking.

The evening went genuinely very well.

The food was really good, and Gal explained where he picked up some of the recipes from different continents he's traveled. Their conversation drifting from one topic to the next as the food went and Revyn stayed true to his personal promise not to consume any form of alcohol, mostly entirely because once he realized he really liked what he was seeing, he firmly didn't trust himself to not fall into Gal's charms when he was working incredibly hard on keeping his principles to his chest.

He wasn't doing.. particularly amazing on that front, because he was thoroughly impressed by Gal's cooking, who was funny and charming and enjoyable to speak to, and Revyn found himself laughing more than he was breathing at some points, and he hadn't felt so warm and relaxed like this in absolute decades. Yet, Revyn was _managing_ and was proud enough of himself for it.

The only downside was being unable to see his face.

Gal laughed freely and warm, his shoulders shook and there was amusement in his voice but Revyn couldn't see his smile or if it reached his eyes or-

It was silly, he knew it was silly, but it bothered him. Gal had a right to his privacy, and Revyn wasn't going to make any demands, but being reminded by the fact that he'll likely never know what he looked like was subduing, ever-smiling but feeling tired.

It _was_ , however, rather fascinating to watch parts of utensils disappear against the illusion of stone along the base of the mask as Gal ate. Which reminded him of something.

Revyn's plate was fairly cleaned, crossing his legs at the ankle under the table as he leaned his chin on his palm once again, making a vague gesture towards Gal's face when he asked; "You promised me you'd explain the trick about the mask, if you remember."

"I did," Gal twisted his fork between his fingers, "would you prefer the long-winded answer or the short one?"

"I've got nothing better to do."

Gal snorted, placing the fork down as he said, "well, what do you know about dragon worshippers?"

Revyn pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, quiet a moment before just shaking his head, "They.. worship dragons."

"Well, do you know what I do, as Dovahkiin?"

There was a little chuckle as he responded, "take the souls of dragons and pronounce Dragonborn pretentiously, apparently." Revyn smiled, "otherwise, no real clue."

A rather delighted sound bubbled up behind the mask, "Ah."

"Too mean?"

"No, I've just never been given the chance to explain it before," leaning forward in his seat, "you really don't know?"

"I make a fair effort to not get too involved in anything Nordic when I can help it," he raised his nose up, feeling cold. He turned his attention momentarily towards the low burning fire, as this cabin had a little bit of a draft and he thought about simply moving over to sit by it, as the shirt he was wearing wasn't much for containing body heat, but thought better of it. He dropped his hands below the table, pressing them between his thighs when he realized that Gal hadn't continued yet. "well? Are you going to tease information or are you going to tell me?"

"Are you okay?"

Revyn blinked, uncertain if he was being obvious or Gal was simply just perceptive, "Of course I am, just ah-" was it rude to point out the chill? Revyn tried really hard to keep his shop warm, and it was always disheartening when the cold was commented about when he couldn't do much more to fix it. Revyn had the issue of thinking too much on what he wanted to say rather than saying it, and Gal seemed to pick up on it.

"You don't need to be cautious with your words here," Gal seemed to reassure, "I work best when folks are blunt with me. Is it something I can fix?"

Revyn shifted, "Ah, I'm just a little bit cold. S'my fault for not grabbing a jacket, I'll be fine."

"You've no reason to put up with it," Gal pushed from his seat, extending his hand over to the dunmer as he did, "come here."

Revyn chewed momentarily on his lower lip before accepting, standing as he took his hand and was pulled around the table. The dragonborn's hand was warm, so much so that he heard the other make a sound behind his mask and Revyn could only presume it had something to do with how chilly his own were. Revyn opted not to think too much on the fact that he continued to allow free touch between them when he knew better, but it seemed harmless enough, and he wasn't going to be confessing anytime soon that he allowed a friend to grab his hand. It was rare for someone to be so free with their own touches, as the people close to him, excluding his sister of course, just didn't.

It wasn't like they were holding hands, and therefore he chose not to worry about it.

So Gal led him to the fire pit, gesturing for Revyn to take a seat on the rug right by it as he grabbed a bit of the piled up firewood that he kept against the side of the stone pit. Revyn didn't argue, dropping down as Gal prodded and refilled the fireplace with wood. He slipped into a rather well-articulated explanation on Dragon Priests, tending the fire as he did; Revyn nodded along, pressing his elbow momentarily against the elevated stone of the firepit, watching Gal push soot around and resituate chopped logs as he pretended not to stare at his arms as the fire grew. He let his eyes close when he felt the heat, listening as the dragonborn spoke, all low and his voice was like absolute honey for his ears as Gal described something called a Thu'um. Explaining that he has a natural ability to absorb draconic information in the same fashion as he could their very souls, using that to then produce a Thu'um, a _Shout_. Revyn opened one eye when he heard the minor shift in the wood as Gal moved away, putting away the metal prod as different variations of these innate dragon abilities were described; sitting down to join the dunmer with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, leaning back on his palms with information on his lips of what a mask like this was created for. ' _It was to encompass and obscure the identity of many of the Dragon Priests_ ,' he had explained, ' _but also to show off their arcane intelligence by creating a tool that enhances abilities as well as not hindering their Voice._ '

Revyn made appropriate noises when necessary, watching intrigued in the ways Gal was able to convey expression through the pitch in his voice and hand movements; not over the top, but enough that it compensated for what he lacked in facial expression. Revyn ate up every little tidbit as Gal described the specific Dragon Priest he fought to obtain the mask he had, the mountain peaks he's climbed, dungeons he's delved, and Revyn listened in rapt silence and just _absorbed_ all the information being laid at his feet.

Asking all the right questions to keep Gal going; his voice a rich thrum against the crackling of the fire and the sharp wind just beyond the door. Revyn found he rather liked his peculiar manner of speech, watching his hands dance in the air as he described one thing or the next, completely uncertain of his accent of origin, as he found a strange mix of several things buried there but absolutely none of it was nord. He realized a little late that he had been asked a question when Gal seemed to be waiting for some sort of response. Revyn blinked, apologizing before asking Gal to repeat what he had said.

Pulling one leg under him, the dragonborn asked patiently, "So, why exactly did you come to Skryim?" 

"Ah, Ambarys hasn't told you?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Hm," Revyn looked down at his lap, before scooting a bit closer to the fireplace so his back was against the warm stone there, "Do you know of the Red Year?"

Gal gave a short nod.

"Well, good. Sort of as simple as that really," Revyn explained, "My village lived at the base of that mountain, up against the coast." he tilted his head a bit, unsure if he should go into much detail with the obvious, as he added a bit quieter, "Debris destroyed just about everything. Molten hale as large as a cart smashed its way through home and person alike. Very few of us from that region escaped."

Gal sat quietly, before asking, "How old were you when it happened?"

Revyn looked off a moment, brows briefly furrowing as he thought, "I was... goodness, maybe sixteen? If my memory serves me correctly."

" _Sixteen_?"

Nodding, he tucked a hand under his chin, "I was one of the youngest to get away, though not by much. Idesa was only eight."

Gal sat forward, "that's.. really young."

"You're telling me." His eyes dropped to watch the other adjust how he was sitting, pulling one leg to hook at the ankle, "A boulder of debris had crashed through the roof of our home." he recalled, "I wasn't there at the time as I was with friends down by the shore. I saw the cloud of smoke beginning to erupt outward, and ran home as soon as I could. It had already caved in. I had to.. to break through one of the windows to get inside, and the only person I could find alive was Idesa. She was unresponsive, had a few cuts and scrapes, but was thankfully still breathing. Carried her out, and I just.. ran."

Gal said nothing as Revyn sorted through his thoughts, to which he eventually sighed before continuing, "I.. haven't thought about Morrowind in a long time. It sort of feels like a different life altogether."

"I know a bit about what that's like," Gal added, though his voice was a bit quiet.

Revyn pressed his lips together, "either way." leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand, looking towards his companion again, "It was a long time ago. We were able to get to a ship as it was leaving port with the remaining survivors. I had to _toss_ Idesa to one of the sailors who had his legs intertwined in the rope ladder along the side, and he passed her up quickly before reaching for me. I don't remember how well I made that jump, but I ended up on the boat either way. We watched as more debris crashed into the water as we escaped, one of them hitting another boat further down the shore but the captain refused to risk turning around for anyone. We were.. several miles off the coast when it finally erupted. I just.." he was sort of staring at the edge of Gal's mask, brows furrowed, "I remember how dark the sky was. The blast caused the ship to rock. Ash fell from the sky for days, and it hurt to breathe."

He could still smell the sulfur. It had been suffocating on the coast, coating the inside of their lungs like a film that made it feel as though they were suffocating. Some folks did; Revyn can still remember some of the sailors grabbing their bodies and throwing them overboard, and how he whispered to Idesa to try and breathe through her shirt until the air no longer seemed so bad. She woke up against him crying and confused, before going mute entirely. It took many months to get her to speak again, even longer until she didn't look so haunted but it never fully went away.

Revyn shrugged, gesturing a bit noncomittally about the room, "We just ended up here. Most of us settled in the first city we landed in, while others migrated off. Our Seer, Llavrana, settled here, which was part of the reason why there is such a large dunmer population in Windhelm. She was our last line of home we had, and so.. well, we stayed with her."

It was hard to tell what Gal was thinking, sitting still as he was. Regardless, he sounded sincere when he said, "I'm sorry you had to live through that."

Revyn shook his head, "Don't be. It was _decades_ ago, and besides, I think a little bit of trauma builds character." swinging one of his hands in a half semi-circle by his head as he said, "Sure, it was horrific when it was happening, but I've _also_ lived a fairly normal life outside of that. Built a shop from nothing, raised my sister, made a bit of a name for myself locally. I'm doing fairly alright, all things considered." that sounded a great deal bleaker than he intended it to, wanting to change the subject as he rubbed his palms up to his face when he said, "and what about you?"

Gal ' _hm_ 'd, watching Revyn, and this was another one of those moments the dunmer wished he knew how the other was regarding him.

"What's the saying? _You show me yours, I show you mine_?" Pulling his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around as he spoke, "what's buried in your past?"

"Hm, what _is_ buried in my past?" he made a little show of falling to lay on his back with an air of flippancy, "I don't suppose I've had enough to drink yet before regaling you my woes."

"Then what _would_ you like to regale me with?"

Gal raised a hand in the air as he made a soft gesture the dunmers direction, " _I_ think I recall a conversation from last night I'd like to revisit."

Revyn was violently reminded of the kiss against his hand, which was a feat because he had a difficult time _not_ thinking about it. Revyn fumbled a bit with his words before simply saying, "I don't really know what more you'd want to discuss."

Gal let his head fall to the side, looking fully at the dunmer against his firepit. "There's a lot I'd like to discuss, actually." he let his hands fall back to his belly, "when I asked you if you could have a choice of what you'd want out of a courtship, you had a faraway look about you and told me it was complicated."

"Because it is," Revyn regarded him, "I don't get to just throw myself around, and there not be consequences. I have one body and I need to be careful with how I treat it or allow others access to it."

"Could you explain to me how your courtships work?" he asked, "I worry about overstepping boundaries that I'm not aware of."

Revyn quirked a half-smile at him, "why are you so interested in this anyways? Dunmeri courtships are ridiculously boring, and I already told you the gist of it."

"I'm interested in it because I'm interested in you," Gal responded, almost like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Revyn froze up, "if that wasn't already clear. I find you.. incredibly easy to be around. I'm fascinated by your attitude, by your culture, by just.. you. I want to learn your boundaries so I don't cross them, if that's alright with you."

Revyn felt the words on his lips; the rebuttals, tongue looking for absolutions to make it clear this could go no further, a million things he was used to saying - all dying behind his throat. There was an angry and loud part of him that was yelling at him to not entertain this further, but he- he didn't feel watched here. He felt alone and private, and there was a rise of adrenaline in his chest and there was curiosity festering there. Revyn frowned, looking at the dragonborn humourlessly as he said; "if this is a genuine inquiry about a courtship, you have me at a disadvantage o'dovahkiin." his tongue was pressed against his cheek, regarding the other carefully, "I don't think it's fair to lay myself bare and vulnerable where I know so very little about what I would, _hypothetically,_ of course, be getting into."

Gal laid there a long moment. Revyn wasn't really sure what he expected out of any of this; maybe the other to acquiesce his point and drop the subject matter entirely, perhaps more talking around one another and getting nowhere, and maybe Gal might say something outlandish and upsetting and Revyn will have something to cling to that will remind him why he shouldn't pursue anything, but what he didn't expect was for Gal to reach for him.

"Okay," he said, and his voice was a murmur, "come here."

Revyn released his legs, brow raised as he tentatively took the other's hands. Gal pulled him forward, so Revyn did a half crawl until he was seated at the other's side, facing him as Gal slipped his hand down a fraction to the dunmer's wrists; Revyn disappointed in himself when his own pulse notably raced, letting the dragonborn lead the other's palm to place on his mask. Revyn looked at him, confused, until Gal grabbed his other hand, pressing the other's fingers against the edge where the illusion began, before gently, like a request or a suggestion, pushing it up a fraction, then let go, pulling his own hands away to leave the others behind. Revyn stopped dead.

He's asking him to take off his mask.

Revyn's fingers brushed over the divots, uncomprehending even as his fingers slipped past the illusion towards the straps there, pausing before going much farther, afraid he was misunderstanding something. "Are you sure?" fingers brushing over the metal clasps past where ears may be but were still covered by an attached hood, "This isn't necessary if you're even a little uncertain. You don't have to rise to some perceived challenge, it's perfectly alright to keep this private."

"I'm fairly decent at reading people," Gal responded, rich and warm and encouraging, "I have no worries you'll tell anyone." his own hand rose up, palm dragging up softly along the other's arm before resting just below his shoulder, "Besides, you're right. What I'm asking of you is personal and it's.. hypocritical to give nothing back." with a little nod, he hummed, "go ahead."

Revyn wasn't sure if he'd ever fully comprehended how significant this was, as he carefully adjusted his grip, undoing the clasps, and pushed up. Part of the illusion flickered, as the piece was gently removed and-

The only thing Revyn noticed for the longest first few collection of moments, was the fact that Gal had the richest dark brown eyes he'd ever seen. Coffee coloured and warm and looking directly up at him. Exhaling a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding.

He let the mask drop against the floor as he shoved it away.

He had no idea what he had been expecting; probably someone with heavy scarring as a seasoned adventurer, perhaps notable damage, rough-looking, and undeniably hardened by the- the _'tough world'_ or something like that. Yet, that's not at all what he was given, as his eyes found a splattering of freckles on a sharp nose, sunkissed cheeks, and dirty blonde hair in a semi mess from being stuffed under a hood for who knows how long at this point; long and wrapped up in a bun to keep it mostly in place. Revyn took a long moment to look at his ears, long and pointed straight back and he had a moment of clarity when he cackled; "I was _right_."

Revyn was gifted with a smile, half-cocked, and full of mirth as he noted that Gal had a dimple on one cheek. His smile reached his eyes where bushy brows momentarily rose as Gal snorted with an amused sigh.

"Your assessment of me earlier had me overthinking my interactions with _everyone_ , I'll have you know."

"The dragonborn is a wood elf," Revyn had his hands resting on either side of Gal's head, leaning over as he said, "how in all of Tamriel are you so _tall_ then?"

"I got lucky, I suppose." Gal responded, and Revyn was so caught up in how expressive he was as he watched the dragonborn's slightly slanted eyes dart over his face, "I do believe that part of the dormant dragon-blood might have had something to do with it."

He was so pretty. Taking off the mask was a mistake.

Revyn swallowed a bit thickly, "Well, it's nice to finally meet you Gal."

"Galvorn," Revyn blinked, brows rising. The dragonborn reiterated, the edge of his mouth quirked, "My name is Galvorn Túrin. It's nice to finally be met by you."

Revyn wrapped his mouth around the name, and it was nice to be able to see Galvorn clearly because now the bosmer couldn't hide the fact that he was watching the other's lips when he spoke. Revyn felt full of ardent adrenaline and heat, warm when he chuckled, "You really gave me your actual nickname and pretended it was an alias."

"I found people don't tend to trust given names, and it's easier to keep the fact it was real, a secret," Galvorn seemed to relax a bit, "that being said, I didn't lie to you. I did in fact respond to that name, as it's also just easier to keep track of."

"I certainly wasn't calling you a liar, I just find it funny is all." Revyn fought the sudden and extreme urge to press his hands against the other's cheek, wondering if the bosmer would have leaned against the touch or move away, before simply forcing _himself_ to pull back when he realized he was hovering rather close. Revyn cleared his throat, sitting up, but Galvorn sat up to follow until they were sitting beside, facing one another, and Revyn was having a hard time justifying his behavior anymore. He needed to sit back, step away, stop whatever this was but -

Their legs bumped and he felt starved for the little touches. There wasn't anything inherently _wrong_ about the closeness, or the soft way Galvorn was looking at him, and it was difficult to justify pulling away either; it was harmless, this was..-

"What do you want to know?" Revyn asked, trying to drown his thoughts and stop feeling as though he was doing something criminal by simply sitting with someone. "About the courting thing, what questions did you have?"

Galvorn's eyes reached his own, and he felt so put at ease as the dragonborn began speaking.

Revyn ended up going through quite a few specifics concerning courtship. By the end of it, the heat he felt before was mostly subdued, continually glancing towards the fireplace as he watched the flames flicker and dance.

"It's just how things are," he explained, finally, "we are all held by the standard given to us. Deviation from that is punishable, and courtship is.. miserable." the exhale was malleable, head lulled a bit against his own shoulder as he spoke. "You can force a courtship on someone, you can control and demand and whichever family had the most influence, wealth, or power, often got whatever they wanted out of the ordeal."

Galvorn was paying close attention if the tension between his brows said anything. Revyn in wonder how he doesn't have a deep set wrinkle there by now; "It's not all that common for loving marriages to occur, though my parents were lucky." he continued, idly adding, "Father inherited a small docking company from my grandfather, and quite literally had his pick of whom he wanted, as he gained control of quite a bit of our Village's imports. He and my mother had known each other a long time before then, and so he swooped in and they married and had a relatively good relationship, partnership, so on. Actually asked her what she wanted, _if_ she even wanted him, which so many older folks had thought so strange at the time. Respect in the home however meant a relatively normal upbringing, and my childhood was comfortable and loving."

Revyn tried not to think of his parents often; losing them had been extremely difficult in more factors than he wished to dwell on for any period of time, truthfully. He couldn't even remember their faces anymore, couldn't remember their voices, their laughter, nothing. At most, he recalled bits and pieces of what home had been like before the eruption, and in none of his memories does he recall fighting. Home had been safe for him, even when his father had been a little bit overbearing about his education; he'd take overbearing over their untimely death, pressing his mouth together as he shook the thoughts away.

"All that got destroyed in the eruption, of course, but that's beside the point." Revyn hummed a bit, palms pressed against the floor behind him, trying to get back to what he was saying, "Courtships are everything I dislike about people. There's a great deal of entitlement involved, a lot of throwing around your own status and weight, and more often than not, only one person ends up happy." Revyn sighed, adding, "Though there are plenty of folks that are content with simply being courted, because they aren't required to do much other than sit there and look pretty, but it sounds like several layers of absolute hell to me."

Galvorn watched him with curious eyes as he asked, "and the dunmer here are held to that cultural standard because..?"

"Because Llavrana," Revyn nodded, "I might have already said this so I apologize if I'm repeating myself, but we are held to these standards because of her. She is our last line of home remaining and she is-" he paused, looking away a moment to try and find the right word. "she is.. well. A seer."

The bosmer inclined his head, mostly waiting on Revyn to continue who finally sighed, "There's respect there. Immense respect. There's also.. fear." at Galvorn's raised brow, Revyn elaborated, "you can't hide anything from her. She knows everyone around her inside and out, and that norm deviation is easy for her to see. I don't know if she scrys on anyone, I don't know how she does it, but- it just doesn't feel worth the risk. I want.. I want to keep my head down. I want to get through my day by day with my hands to myself and stay out of her line of sight as much as possible. She has no reason to turn her eyes to me when there is nothing to see."

There was a sharp exhale as Revyn chuckled a bit humourlessly, "So, I simply do not get involved in affairs. I do what I'm told and it's mostly easy, most folks don't give me too much trouble other than Ambarys, but he's too much a coward to force anything on me."

When Revyn met Galvorn's eyes, he was startled to see such sharp clarity manifesting there. Revyn blinked, "is something the matter?"

Galvorn eyed him carefully, lips parted with his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth, almost uncertain if he should say anything before saying, deliberate and slow, "Revyn, I mean absolutely no disrespect when I say this, and I beg you not to take this in the.. wrong way, but do you know what a cult is?"

His shoulder's rose, startled, "It's not a-"

"Revyn, you are in a _cult._ "

"I am _not_."

"My friend, I've lived in Morrowind for several years," Galvorn's brows were furrowed, his eyes serious, "I'm aware of some aspects of dunmeri courting, which is why I found your distaste for it almost odd considering what I'd learned from others. I've never heard it .. described the way you describe it."

Revyn frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"Sex before marriage is frowned upon there, certainly, and I've known areas to be strict about it. I am not blind to.. the impact that has had on dunmer that have left to freely explore er.. _themselves_ in other countries." there was a bit of pink that reached his cheeks as he spoke, "I have, however, _never_ seen or heard of a place where sometimes those actions resulted in either social or physical _death_." Galvorn's eyes were intense, "I worked as a mercenary for a traveling group of acrobats for a few years, and two of the performers were courting. A dunmer male and woman, and there were.. there was nothing that you described. They touched freely, they were together constantly, both with others and alone. The ringmaster did some minor chaperoning, but only to the extent that as long as they didn't get _caught_ doing anything then it was fine. Nobody thought much about it," shaking his head, almost uncomprehending as he said, "I- just, what? You can't touch people? You're not allowed to _hug_?"

Revyn opened his mouth, before closing it. That's not possible. Dunmeri courting is- it's not like that. Galvorn must be confused. Blinking, equal parts startled and uncomfortable as he said, "That's just how things are."

"That's the problem, I don't think it is." Galvorn reached out for Revyn's wrists, and when the dunmer didn't pull his hands back, he took them. Revyn looked a little confused between their hands and the bosmer's face, when Galvorn asked, "how big was your village, Revyn?"

Revyn didn't know what that had to do with anything, but there was a plea in the other's eyes that he didn't understand as he responded with, "I- uhm. Not large, I don't think. Around maybe two hundred at most?"

"Were you allowed to travel outside of the city?" What were with these _questions_? It's been years since Revyn really stopped to think about the village. It was _decades_ ago, and his memories were hollow and vague, frowning because can't really recall a time anyone.. left.

"There were.. docks," he replied, after a moment, admitting after a dragged out while that he couldn't really recall anyone ever leaving, which didn't _mean_ anything, because why would anyone have a reason to leave? "We _did_ sometimes have outlanders come in to drop off wares, food, so on."

Galvorn had a look about him, as if he was struggling to comprehend or explain something, and Revyn had never thought twice about any of it before. They were simply a small village, local, and people liked it there, right? Why leave if you already had everything you could need in one place? Galvorn squeezed his hands.

"Okay well, ah," and he looked a bit unwell, chewing on his words. "I am.. a bit uncertain on what to say." Revyn almost opened his mouth to reassure him that it's fine, because he's aware of how awful their courting practices are, considering he won't take part in them, when the bosmer said, "You mentioned something that sort of struck me as.. really odd. Do you believe that when you.. sleep with someone, or allow someone close, that they make you dirty? That they take a piece of you with them when all is said and done?"

Revyn frowned, "Well, yes? You're allowing someone access to you. You only get-"

"One vessel, I heard you the first time," and Galvorn quickly shook his head, "I don't know how to express how horrific that sounds."

"That's because it is horrific-"

"Not for the reason's you think." Revyn isn't really sure what to make of this conversation, not really sure how to make Galvorn stop nitpicking at something he just doesn't understand but the bosmer went on to say, "What part of you gets taken?"

Revyn opened his mouth to give some sort of answer because clearly there had to be one, but.. nothing came. His thoughts dragged to the simple answer of 'well your spirit' because that's what he had been told, but Revyn looked to the bosmer, and the response he had made him deflate a bit considering it sounded so.. lackluster in the face of the other's encouragement, feeling a little lost but went with that answer anyway.

Galvorn gave a little nod, and he didn't sound critical or mean when he responded with, "When we were doing the ritual last night, you expressed to me that sometimes angry spirits would sometimes arise while your seer weakened the barrier." Revyn nodded faintly, "Have you ever seen a spirit missing anything?" Galvorn asked, "Have you heard stories of spirits lacking in sections or parts? Does sex stop taking parts of you after marriage, and how does your body know what's before or after if that's the case? Do you just lose more and more of you after every -"

"Gal, I genuinely don't-"

"No." Galvorn regarded him with so much seriousness when he said, "You're incredibly and obviously bright, and I want you to think about what I'm saying critically. What does it take from you, actually? And why would it only affect dunmer? All races engage in untoward activities and every single part of their soul is still intact upon death, lest their death be the result of a soul gem notwithstanding. How do you not simply cease to exist if you have too much sex? Do you think dunmer that go a little wild have nothing left to say goodbye to when their time is done?"

Revyn's cheeks were burning, feeling hot all over and confused because he wasn't- it couldn't be like that. It wasn't that simple, was it? Revyn tried to think back to the reasons his Seer had given him and other young dunmer during their coming of age, looking for anything that might explain the very things the other was asking, but - he..- he couldn't remember. Did they never ask? Did she choose not to explain further? There were hands resting on his, and Galvorn was talking too much and he felt cornered and-

"Can we- can we change the subject," he ground out, "I- look I'm sure you have good intentions but that's- it - it's so much more complicated than that."

"Is it?" and there was a challenge there but Revyn sighed.

"Look that's a lot to take in and.. I don't know if you've been forced to reframe your life but that's not an easy thing to expect from someone right away. You made points and I'll take those points and sit on them for a bit, but I don't- just let me think. Maybe there's a good explanation for all of that, that I just never thought to ask."

Galvorn closed his mouth, brows furrowed and Revyn huffed, "I don't know what to tell you. I'll ask. I'm sure Llavrana will explain it further and I can return with some good reasons why things are done as they are. I truly feel like I come from a fairly traditional village, but I _don't_ believe it's a cult. It's not.. _demanding_ us to sacrifice anything of great import, and it isn't so terribly difficult to keep hands to yourself."

There was worry in the quirk of his lips, "There are definite sacrifices being made, Revyn, but not the type I suppose you'd consider right now. I implore you to be careful, and I hope they have a good answer for your sake, but I don't much agree with their methods."

"You haven't much liked a single thing I had to say on the matter, so that's not surprising." Revyn's attempt to make the air feel less suffocating worked only a little, as the tension seemed to drop from the bosmer's face. "I didn't mean to cause any alarm. I've been told in the past our methods are rather extreme."

"I guess I'm just.. noticing things," Galvorn said, a bit slow, "especially considering what you've told me on the physical things you are meant to abstain from. You still haven't pulled away your hands."

Revyn didn't know what he was talking about until he realized that, ah, Galvorn did have their hands clasped together. Revyn pressed his mouth into a thin line, pulling his hands back and crossing his arms, tucking them away almost as a rebuttle.

"You touching me is.. different," he responded, because it was technically true, "and you do quite a bit of it."

"I don't do any more than is normal," and Revyn gave him a flat look, though the bosmer didn't relent. "I will stop if it is making you uncomfortable. While I find your.. cultures methods rather extreme, your boundaries are still your boundaries and I don't desire to cross them."

"You haven't crossed anything," he said as he uncrossed his arms, letting them fall back to his lap, feeling a bit silly. "I'm sure I'm still recovering from the whiplash I received when I learned that nords practically don't court at _all_ and simply marry whenever they feel like it. That being said, uhm," he wished the heat would die down, genuinely desperate for him to stop feeling like his skin was just burning, "you're not held by the same standards I am. I am not allowed to.. act. Those are the restrictions."

Galvorn's mouth quirked, and while that concern never fully left, he eyed him, a bit curious. "Like.. initiate? Or react at all?"

"I can react," Revyn inhaled, not really sure why he was telling him all this, "I can push you away. Instigating however is..- ah, not an option."

Galvorn's eyes briefly dipped to the dunmers neckline, his voice low when he asked, "I suppose putting a restriction of starting something makes a great deal of sense if everyone involved is under that particular rule."

"I always thought it strange it was never elaborated on once we came here," Revyn admitted. "I feel as though _technically_ it is assumed that if you are not to touch, then you are not to be touched either, but, never was it specified. I think it was assumed we would stop advancements before anything happened."

Galvorn let his hands fall to his lap, "is that why you never pushed my hands away?"

Revyn didn't have a good answer for that, because he absolutely should have been. It was too embarrassing to admit he liked it when Gal was a bit touchy; getting a closeness he wasn't really allowed felt good, and as long as they weren't somewhere they'd be easily caught, Revyn had been hesitant to put a stop to it altogether. It felt harmless, and he liked it too much, which was shameful but as long as he didn't acknowledge it, it was fine, right?

When he didn't respond, because honestly, he didn't know _how_ to, Galvorn sat forward, elbows propped on his knees, "So, theoretically, if I were to lean forward and kiss you, it would be of no fault of your own and therefore allowed?"

Revyn's eyes widened a fraction; heat flooded to his face, back of his neck, and ears, and his chest was filled with such an immense ball of _want_ that loudly slammed past the nervous reminders that this wasn't something he could do. Glancing momentarily at the other's lips before looking up with, "Ah, I do believe that's how it works, yes."

Why did he say that? Was Galvorn always sitting this close? Revyn felt very aware of the flicker of the fire not too far away, the sounds just beyond the front door, though his worries were drowned by the sight of the faint smile on the bosmers mouth, his thoughts and reason helpless against how badly he wanted..- something.

"So, theoretically," Revyn wasn't sure if he was moving closer or not, but Galvorn's voice was absolutely reverberating between then, "if I were to kiss you, would that result in a shove or would you just.. react?"

"Isn't shoving a reaction?" his voice came out much softer than he wanted it to, and the way the bosmer looked at him with such amusement in his eyes had something stutter in his chest.

"A sort of reaction," he responded.

"So between a sort of reaction and just a reaction, I would ah, probably just react."

Revyn had no idea what he was saying or trying to say and it didn't matter because he was met with a warm mouth against his own and he momentarily forgot how to breathe.

It was over before he could process any of it, but Galvorn didn't part far, looking over his face with half-lidded eyes when he said, his voice practically a whisper, "you didn't shove."

A shaky breath when he murmured "I did not." and Galvorn pressed forward and their mouths connected again, this time harder, rough hands finding rest against darkened nape and jaw, and Revyn did not push him away.

Revyn has read many stories, embarrassingly plenty of which involving the act of kissing, which often made the act out as though the world simply stopped spinning upon contact. Like finding rapture or meeting-the-gods sort of thrill, but all Revyn was feeling was particularly self-aware of his surroundings and the person pressed against him.

He was aware of his loud breathing, the sound of blood rushing in his ears, the very loud and rapid thud of his heart in his chest, and the tightness in his belly. He did not find rapture, as he found that he didn't know what he was doing or where to put his hands, but the bosmer he was with was so patient and warm and eventually, Revyn brought his palms up to Galvorns collar, ignoring the faint tremour racing through his arms as he turned his head so their noses weren't bumping. 

His mouth was soft.

A little chapped, but it made absolutely no difference to him when a tongue pressed against his lips and he felt shaky but the dragonborn's hands were firm and certain against him as he parted his own lips in response. 

Heat and need spread from his chest and pooled in his throat, a growing sense of urgency festering in his belly and feeling light-headed when he loosened his grip on the bosmer's collar to push; mouths never parting as Galvorn was barely shoved back, inhaling sharply as his hands dropped to meet waist as the dunmer climbed his lap. Maneuvering himself to place his knees on either side of the other's hips, and despite the tightness in his chest, Revyn was greeted with a shuddering inhale against his lips. He tasted like spices and mead, and Revyn wanted to get closer but didn't know how, which quickly stopped mattering once Galvorn parted. He pulled back barely a breath away as his lips pressed along the side of his mouth, hands dragging up from the dunmer's waist to the small of his back as he trailed his mouth against his cheek, along his jaw to drop to the dunmer's throat whos breathing grew ragged and thoughts were nothing but puddles.

It felt good, it felt-

There was a loud knock at the front door; Revyn jolted back, landing on his back as a surge of immense panic quite literally jerked him away, almost as if burned. Galvorn looked at him momentarily wide-eyed as the dunmer scrambled back, but Revyn was hastily pushing back to his feet, because all he could think was that it was somehow Llavrana and that she knows, because of _course_ she would know she's a seer she sees everything she knows everything she knows what he did she knows-

Galvorn pushed to his feet, concern slotting over his face as he grabbed the mask on his way up and reached for Revyn, but the dunmer pulled back and stared at the door in a mix of dread and terror and he didn't know what to do. The pair of them flustered as Galvorn looked towards the door, slipping on his mask to move towards it when Revyn's hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist with a ' _wait!_ '

When the bosmer looked at him now, there was a safety in staring at the stone because Revyn didn't really want to know what he looked like right now. He tried to speak but it was really hard when there was another knock at the door and Revyn felt like he was going to be sick.

Galvorn grabbed the hand against his wrist and squeezed it, "It's alright," and he sounded so uncertain, trying to reassure despite clearly not understanding what he was trying to assage, "I'll deal with this, sit tight."

"What if it's-" but he was cut off by another knock and fell silent as Galvorn left to answer it.

His heart was in the pit of his stomach as Gal snagged his sword propped by the side of the door, and Revyn watched unbreathing as he undid the lock and pulled it open.

It felt as though a weight had been lifted when the voice that filtered through the entryway was one he did not recognize. He heard the soft lilt of " _Dragonborn? Message for you._ " and the bosmer said something in response, reaching for something but Revyn didn't hear it as he dropped to sit on the nearby bench, exhaling as he let his face fall to his palms, elbows pressed against his knees. The adrenaline didn't go away, but there was relief, even as his arms felt shaky and that fear didn't fully dissipate. He stayed that way even as the door closed and footsteps approached, hearing something heavy get set on the table behind him before peeking through his fingers as Galvorn finally crouched before him, maskless once again and looking up at him with worry.

A hand met the dunmer's knee, tilting his head, "Are you okay?"

Revyn let one hand drop to wrap around his stomach, his face half pressed against his other palm as he laughed humourlessly when he said, "not even a little bit."

Shakily running his palm up his face to brush back his hair, fingertips digging at his scalp as he leaned back before letting his other hand wrap around him as well, he sighed, "I'm sorry. I- uhm," it was hard to look at the dragonborn, horrifically embarrassed, but Revyn managed it just barely, "I thought it was Llavrana."

Understanding quickly washed over the bosmer's face, his mouth set in a tight line. "Why did you think it was her?"

Revyn sniffed, "I don't know," before he chuckled a bit direly, "That's- that a lie." He looked towards the shut front door nervously, his heart racing for a number of reasons he wasn't comfortable with when he said, "I thought she just knew. I thought maybe she knew I was doing something I really wasn't supposed to be doing, and she was going to- to deal with me. She's caught others before, and I was- I was so sure." he swallowed, "I'm sorry for panicking. I don't know what came over me."

Galvorn looked as though he was going to say something when Revyn shook his head, adding; "Well, uhm, if you don't mind me asking, who was that?"

Gal seemed completely uninterested in talking about it because it was clear he wasn't done addressing what he just witnessed, but went on to say, "Oh, uhm. I received a missive from the Court Mage. It was rather vague and he insisted I speak with him soon, that's all."

Revyn felt tired, pushing to stand and Galvorn pushed to stand alongside him, "then you should go do that."

"It can wait-"

"No, I just-" Revyn took a deep breath, "I'd actually really like to head home now, and it would already be on your way, so you might as well."

Galvorn paused, regarding him. "Revyn, if I made you uncomfortable-"

"No, no, I-" why did he feel so frustrated all of a sudden? Revyn wiped his palms against the front of his pants, feeling clammy, "It's not you. You didn't do anything wrong, I just- I shouldn't have let it go that far. I know better, and I absolutely should not have led you on like that, because nothing good will come of it. That..- whatever that was simply cannot happen and I shouldn't get your hopes up that something will." he exhaled, looking up at the bosmer who's expression never wavered from worry, "I really can't give you what you would want out of something like this, and it's not fair to you. I made peace a long time ago that these sorts of things are for other people, and I- I just want to go home. Can you take me home?"

The bosmer was quiet a long moment before nodding, "Of course, let me get dressed and I'll be right back, okay?"

"Thank you," Revyn mumbled, and Galvorn slipped away towards his bedroom once again without another word. Revyn didn't move from that spot until the other finally reemerged, fully armoured, and it was a little strange to see him in his typical get-up without the mask. Revyn watched a bit blankly as the bosmer was tying off a knot in his hair, all fixed up as he grabbed his bow that was propped by the closet; Revyn sniffed, feeling awkward, but grabbed the mask from the table as he moved the other's way. Despite the rejection, Galvorn smiled faintly as he accepted his face wear, wordlessly putting it on, and they nearly left before Galvorn went back into his closet, pulling the coat out from before and offering it to Revyn.

Revyn shook his head, "No, I'm okay-"

"It's freezing out there," Galvorn insisted, "you don't have to keep it, but hold onto it just for now, okay?"

Revyn looked at the clothing before accepting it, a quiet 'thank you' on his lips as he shrugged it onto his shoulders, Gal waiting for him to button up before opening the door to leave.

Revyn didn't think about the cold, didn't think to try and make the air less awkward between them as they traveled through the brush and landed on the main road. The familiar smell of salt on the breeze, though it stung and was unavoidably unpleasant in the freezing wind that carried it. Revyn buried his hands deep in his coat pockets, disgusted in himself, and revolted in his behaviour, and that anxiousness in his chest never quite lessened the closer they got to the city once again. 

He wasn't really expecting Galvorn to speak up or talk after that, but the other bumped him as they got close to the stables.

"You doing okay?" his voice was low, private, and Revyn finally acknowledged him with a slow nod.

"I'm alright."

"Do you want to talk about it?" and Revyn exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

"I don't believe there's anything more to discuss."

Galvorn was quiet, before saying "I kind of want to know if you would be fine with me seeing you again sometime?"

Revyn snorted, "Of course that's fine. I just-" he pressed his lips together, "we just can't do that again."

"I'm okay with that," and Galvorn sounded earnest, facing his way, "I shouldn't have pushed. I enjoy your company greatly, and I don't need anything further if you do not have any interest in it."

Revyn felt rather terrible still, because the issue is that he _did_ have an interest in it, and _that_ was the problem. It was a problem that Galvorn is clearly upset as well, and Revyn isn't convinced it has anything to do with stopping, rather that he seems genuinely worried he wasn't going to see him again, and it made Revyn feel worse about how he reacted. He didn't know what to say, because there didn't seem to be an appropriate response, and so decided to say nothing.

They made it into the city in silence, and Revyn was at some point expecting Gal to part ways with him at the main entrance and head off to the mage, but instead, the bosmer walked him home. Trailing next to him in quiet, and despite feeling a sense of upset at the situation he put himself in, he was warmed by the fact that even after he'd flat-out turned Galvorn down, as some vile part of his brain accused himself of being a dirty tease, that he wasn't being treated any worse for it.

Too many times he'd been friendly to the wrong people who accused him of being a tease and a flirt, accused him of getting their hopes up and that he shouldn't act like such a slut if nothing was going to come of it. For obvious reasons their complaints had always fallen flat, as conversation and simply existing wasn't an open invitation to get between his legs; _but_ he'd actually been rather forward this time.

He _did_ kiss back, he _did_ climb on his lap, he let himself flirt openly and he liked it. Then he stopped it. Yet Galvorn was behaving as if _he_ had done something wrong and not the other way around, and Revyn didn't understand it. Didn't understand why Galvorn didn't seem angry with him, or that he didn't even try and attempt to force the dunmer to continue, because he was the _dragonborn_ and it wasn't as though Revyn would have been able to put up much of a fight.

None of that happened.

Instead, he was fishing for the key to his home and the other was shifting, clearly wanting to speak but not knowing what to say, and kept his hands to himself.

There was a small part of him that almost wished Gal would reach for him in some way, because despite knowing he wasn't allowed to have this, it didn't mean that there was a part of him that didn't want it. He was responsible, not naive, as he put the key in the lock.

"Dinner was nice," he gave, almost like an olive branch, smiling tired and small towards the other, "I had fun, and I'd really like to host next time, if that's alright with you?"

"I'd love to," and he sounded so sincere, and Revyn really hoped he meant it.

He gave a short nod, saying his goodnight as Galvorn slipped back and said his own before the door clicked shut behind him.

Revyn leaned against it for a very long time.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and instead just stood there, back against the door, looking blankly into his storefront, and he just - breathed. Focusing on the rise and fall of his own chest, and he didn't think, didn't move, didn't anything, for a good long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revyn: sex is bad bc i'll get in trouble so i don't want it  
>  Galvorn: *gives him an OUNCE of dopamine*  
>  Revyn: wait
> 
> Being touch starved results in behaviors I can play with in this fic (while trying to mostly keep him in character based off of my previous fics and how i perceive him in game) Craving being touched is a bit stronger than the fear of repercussions for doing so and that's what I'm going with.
> 
> //I also heavily debated on waiting for Gal to take off his mask and introducing himself but I was SICK of referring to him in very limited descriptors (and I kept accidentally writing out his full name :^V and simply kept forgetting to scan through to check after I would post a chapter) and I wanted them to make out so I did that. I was gonna have them kiss through the mask illusion thing but I literally hated the visual so much I scrapped it.
> 
> And this is kind of what I meant by coffee-coloured [as a point of reference](https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/hot-coffee-table-with-morning-sunlight-shading-through-window-vintage-tone-top-view_34048-1146.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg) for his eyes as I realize coffee comes in many a colour.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A bit of a MUCH shorter update! (A transitional chapter, bear with me) The response this fic has gotten means a ton to me so thank you to everyone who has been leaving comments and feedback! It really lets me know the sort of things you all enjoy reading (and it's honestly great that anyone is here at all - so thank you!!) I hope you enjoy!

Revyn took a bath.

Turned on the cold tap and let it run as he filled three heavy pots to boil. Revyn had gotten only half undressed before giving up, feeling weak and extremely tired, and wanting nothing else than to simply crawl into bed and just act like the day didn't happen, but knowing if he tried he couldn't guarantee he'd get any sleep. So he set the first pot on the cooking spit, and dropped himself on the chair that was pressed between the table and his wall, sitting in it sideways to watch the water; after the first one started bubbling, he removed it to dump into his half-filled tub, pouring it into the cold before returning to his living chamber to repeat the process. 

Once the last pot was set to the cooking spit, Revyn finally worked on stripping most of the way down, uncomfortable and uneasy as he removed each article of clothing, hands smoothing down along the seams and feeling inexplicably saddened.

Truthfully, Revyn was feeling a great deal of conflicting emotions at the moment. Some good, some bad, but all of it numbing.

He dropped each item in his laundry basket, his eyes continually pulled over to the coat that's hung over the back of his opposite chair, sitting closer to the doorway. He tried distracting himself as he waited for the final pot to steam, looking for some type of pajamas before just settling on a shirt and giving up. It took some time for him to get all the water boiled and dumped into the tub, and all the while he sat with his cheek pressed against the stone wall of his home and listening to the wind howling just outside. His eyes darting between the coat and the fire, and, annoyed, he reached over the table and grabbed the stupid thing, falling back to his seat with his legs drawn up, dropping the coat against his lap as he stuck his arms through the sleeves backwards, dropping his face against the collar with a sigh.

Wrapping his arms inward, he breathed in the smell of firewood and ash, and thought of Gal.

Thought about the eyes; thought about the dopey way he smiled now that he's actually had a chance to see it. Thought about how soft and sweet and warm Galvorn appeared, how welcoming and open his face was for someone who has seen the worst the world has to offer. He breathed in the smell of pine against the fur, and he didn't have a chance to register if it's something that's clung to the other's skin; how many places has this coat seen? What messes the other got caught up in while wearing it? It was clearly well-loved, and well worn, if some of the frayings had any say, the fur a bit flattened in spots, and Revyn kept his nose buried in the collar.

His fingers drummed against his legs as he breathed, and he tried not to think about anything.

It was hard not to.

He had kissed someone.

He made a helpless sound against the fur, muffled and short. Technically he had been kissed _by_ someone, but he'd- he'd encouraged it, and Galvorn had felt like-

Revyn stopped himself short, turning his head to the side to lazily watch the fire again. It felt so _silly_ to think about this as a grown adult; he's an _adult_. Yet his heart rate kept picking up, and his chest felt on fire, and the desire to go back and do it all over again was so strong it was embarrassing. He was haunted by the realization that he starkly understood the appeal, because if that's what it felt like to be kissed, then he couldn't imagine what anything further might be like, and- and Llavrana's warnings of how temptation was a dangerous drug made so much sense. If the Divines were testing him, all he was doing was failing them and failing their expectations of him, and the guilt was suffocating.

He wondered a little absently if married dunmer couples valued the first time they ever kissed their spouse? If it always felt like the very air they breathed wasn't enough, if they had that same violent desire to be as close as possible no matter the cost, and what that even meant or where it came from. Did it always feel like that? Did it always feel as though your very body was alight with all sorts of energy, or that everything was too loud and too much, like drowning but it- it felt good? If that made sense? Revyn's thoughts were so muddled and confused and he wasn't thinking straight, but it made sense to _him_. It made sense that he was still awash with heat despite it being well over an hour by now since all that happened.

He wanted to go back so much. He didn't even know why; it wasn't likely Galvorn was home by now with the urgency of whatever that missive had been, and if he were home, what in the Divines would he even do? He can't kiss him again, can't touch him. Being around him would be- difficult. He couldn't reason away this need in him, no matter how many times he tried to explain it away as he watched the pot begin to steam.

Revyn didn't know; he didn't know what he was doing, didn't know what to do now - he didn't know much else than he had done something strickly forbidden and he was terrified of what was inevitable to follow.

There wasn't any way Llavrana didn't know.

She knows everything, she _sees_ everything. Revyn's brows pinched together, tense all over.

Why hadn't she knocked yet? Is she waiting to shame him publically? How severe would the punishment be for what he.. allowed, as compared to if things had gone any further? Revyn has only known of cases of folks being ostracized or.. going missing over getting tangled up, but he can't think of what happens as a result of a kiss. It made him all the more anxious, and he hated that. Hated not knowing. Hated having to _wait_ on the consequences of his actions. A part of him almost wanted to knock on her door to get it over with, face whatever punishment she deems appropriate for his indisposition and maybe it won't be so terrible.

It was just unfortunate he was too terrified to do so.

Why couldn't he have just kept his head down? He thought bitterly, why did he encourage that? What sort of lapse in judgment had him flirting back and- and _climbing_ someone in that fashion? He didn't even _think_ about stopping, where in Tamriel did that even _come_ from? What came over him?

Revyn sucked in his lower lip, chewing, but not hard enough to draw blood. What in the nine was he thinking?

The water began to boil over.

He draped the coat to the back of the seat again, though he was loath to admit it was reluctant.

He worked on dumping the remainder of the water into the tub, testing it, and cooling as needed before completely stripping down to nothing. He had a foolish moment where he almost went back into his bedroom to grab the coat, some half thought out idea of setting it in here somewhere because he still wanted to look at it before telling himself he was being stupid and left it where it was, pointedly stepping into his tub and slowly sitting, realizing far too late he had forgotten to grab a towel but it didn't matter now.

Revyn submerged himself and just tried to breathe.

What he did _wasn't_ Galvorn's fault; Revyn was thinking clearly when that mess happened. He was thinking clearly, and that was the issue. It wasn't Galvorn's issue or problem that Revyn had a strict upbringing nor a strict cultural lifestyle. It was Revyn's responsibility to stop things, and he simply did not do that soon enough. Galvorn was- he was just some person who is- er, _was_ , interested in him. Arguably, he shouldn't be anymore after his embarrassing little panic; so maybe things can go on as though nothing had happened between them, depending of course, on what Llavrana decides to do. He can't know for certain, and he isn't even that upset that the bosmer tried anything at all; Revyn was in control of his actions, and he slipped up. That's all. He knew better and still let himself be flirted with, and still encouraged Galvorn's behaviour because he- he liked it.

Of _course_ he liked it, obviously he did. He can't lie to himself, not about that. Not when he's never experienced that level of desire before, not when he's never felt so close to want in his life. Galvorn gave him attention, and Revyn craved it and wanted more of it, and it hit him like a stampeding horse. Wasn't attraction suppose to be gradual? Where did any of this come from? Revyn has read love story after love story, and it was so different to experience that level of sudden need where he used to feel so critical over how unrealistic it had seemed in novels.

He barely _knows_ Galvorn.

So why does his chest ache so badly?

In all of this, Revyn couldn't stop thinking about the one thing he felt consistently all night.

Revyn had felt safe.

He just felt safe.

Revyn wrapped his arms around his middle, water above his shoulders with his knees poking above the surface. Galvorn had made him feel so safe; at no point in the night did he feel like he needed his walls raised. Galvorn had been charming and welcoming, he had been reassuring no matter what they were talking about or doing. Revyn didn't think twice about being alone with him, didn't feel uncomfortable with the fact they were headed to a secluded place out of the city, didn't feel scared or pressured or alone when arguably he should have been. It was weird, feeling respected like that, feeling comfortable and unworried around someone he was trying to get to know, and Galvorn..- Revyn settled a bit, staring up at the stone walls; Galvorn was just.. sweet. He had felt kind, and genuine, and Revyn really.. really liked him. Likes him? Whatever. It isn't as though it matters, he huffed a bit somberly, letting his eyes fall close, because none of that means anything and _will not_ mean anything, where thinking on it further is what got him into this mess in the first place.

So why did he feel so sad?

He didn't even get to really know Galvorn. If- if the circumstances would have been different, it still wouldn't have mattered, because Galvorn is still destined to go off to stop the end of the world, and it's likely he will simply die. If things had been different and this was allowed, which it resolutely is _not_ , Revyn would have still been setting himself up for failure, no matter how he looked at it. He can't have him, he can't keep him, he just can't. Not when things are not as simple as that as it currently stands, not when he has rules to abide by lest he lose everything. Kissing was too far, and anything further would be detrimental to him and his safety, but trying to feel proud of himself for stopping this short was so much harder than it was supposed to be.

Why did Galvorn give him his name?

He took off his mask. Why would he do that? Why would he _do_ that?

Why was he being so nice to him? Why was he so okay with Revyn putting his foot down and taking him home? He didn't argue, he didn't fight it, he just let it happen and Revyn isn't sure if his feelings should be hurt or if he was just being respected but nothing about it felt good.

A wet hand came up from the water, fingers tapping his lips. The kiss was still replaying in his head, and he wanted to commit it to memory, in the same way he wished it hadn't happened so he could forget his indiscretion. Galvorn had- he had felt so nice. He was warm and soft and he liked the way Galvorn's hands had felt on him, liked the way he pressed closer and spoke, low like a rumbling tide and he kissed the way weeds drank up the sun; Revyn pressed his mouth into a fine line, exhaling, deflated.

There was an ache in him that wasn't going away, and he had worsened it by what he did tonight. He shouldn't have done that.

He thought back to their conversation; ' _what part of you gets taken?_ ' he had asked, and Revyn didn't have the answer then, as he doesn't have the answer now. Does he feel smaller somehow? Did he feel like part of his spirit had been cut away? It was hard to say, because maybe this yearning that's festering like a swarm in his chest and brushing along his lips is a missing part of him; which makes him wonder that if a section of him was stolen, did he steal one too? Did he take a part and place it in the space that his went missing? It didn't make too much sense, but maybe it explains why he felt so dull. Sad and scared and alone, that maybe a part of him was taken, and maybe his spirit was missing it, like a ghost limb. Maybe it'll be the only remaining part of him when Llavrana is through with him.

He just wished she'd do it already.

Revyn stayed in the water until it grew cold and his fingertips pruned up, standing in the sharp cold of his washroom as he half air-dried long enough to not pool too many puddles through his home in search of a towel. His tub draining a bit loudly, and it brought him somewhat back into the present as he dried off and got half-dressed before sleep was too hard to resist. Doing a quick once over of his shop to make sure all the lanterns were blown out and the door was firmly locked, when he realized there was a folded up piece of parchment slipped under the door.

Frowning, he picked it up, noting the water stain from the snowstorm brewing on outside, and wondering how long it had been sitting there as he unfolded it open.

_I had fun tonight._ _I need to see_ _you again._

 _Meet me in the m_ _arket after dark_ _tomorrow night,_

 _I have_ _something I need to show_ _you._ _It would mean_

_so much to have you there. It was so good seeing_

_you again._

_-Sincerely yours,_

_Gal._

xxx

The note haunted him well into the afternoon of the following day.

It distracted him while he worked through the day until closing time and still he wasn't sure what to do. He read it over and over, unsure whether or not he should bother with it or leave it, because it was so _demanding_ and blunt and maybe Galvorn didn't understand him when he tried to make himself clear about where their relationship, specifically the lack-thereof, stands. He wasn't even entirely sure if he wanted to go to make sure he was fully understood, or if it was out of curiosity, or - or out of the simple want to see him again because the little demand wasn't really an issue as it was out of place.

It was just weird. It read strangely and there was something off even about the handwriting, but comparing the notes gave him nothing other than the first was written calmly, and there seemed to be more of an urgency to the second. It's not as though he could compare signatures because Galvorn didn't _sign_ the first note and he wasn't exactly accustomed to comparisons.

Did something happen? What did he want to show him? Why didn't he just knock or stop by and ask, and why the market? He was a little uncomfortable with the idea of walking out of his home after dark alone, but.. but Galvorn would be at the end of it. 

Galvorn was safe.

Revyn stared at the letter a long while, before eventually sighing to himself because he was _weak_ and had the worst self-control, as he folded it up again and stuffed it in his front pocket. Moving to leave his living chamber when he stopped by his back chair where the coat was still hanging, and he hesitated.

Grabbing it after a moment, he looked over the fur again, sighing uncertain.

The fact he wanted to see him should be reason enough not to go. Just because Llavrana didn't choose to come to him today didn't mean she wasn't taking her time to let him squirm before paying a visit, and he was far from being out of the water yet.

He should stay home. Leave Gal to his own devices, make it clear that he meant what he said, and stick to his own discipline; stick to it even as he stuck his nose against the fur again, burying his face against the coat with an annoyed sound because it was hard to justify how difficult this silly little decision was for him to make. He shouldn't go.

He absolutely should not go, even as he pulled the coat over his sleeves and blew out the nearest lantern. He should really crawl into bed, even as he readjusted his boots, and checked his face and hair in the mirror, reaching for his key. He needed to call it in for the night and forget about Galvorn, even as he locked up the front of his shop, buttoning up the coat and slipping down the alley towards the market.

This was stupid and dangerous and foolish and Galvorn didn't even ask that nicely, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets as he slowed down his trek, reaching the border that bled into the Stormcloak encampments, carefully slipping through mostly unseen with his heart in his throat until he landed by the streets leading towards the market. It was all mostly quiet at this hour, a few hours past dark and moon high as most everyone had gone home at this point. His breath was a puff of white air before him, realizing a bit curious that he didn't see any guards patrolling as he moved.

The pinpricks returned, as he stepped off into the market, not seeing anyone though he did not stop walking. He figured if Galvorn did not make himself known within the next few seconds, then he'll be close to the path leading towards the graveyard and he can continue on home.

He didn't hear the scrape of rocks shifting on the cobblestone until a hand found its way to his mouth from behind and before feeling a flash of pain go through his back, a body pressed close against him.

"Oh good," came the voice, which sounded faraway as Revyn gasped out in pain, hands snapping up to the someone's wrists and his fingers dug against skin. "Glad you could make it, smiles."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter Warning: _Graphic Violence_ , dark imagery, graphic disturbing language, disturbing implications.
> 
> What a great way to start the month of October! :^D
> 
> I actually had to change the Archive Warning tag because I wasn't planning for too much violence in this fic in general but had to wrestle with what I believed would be more accurate for the Butcher; the method I was going to use originally was too much of a cop-out and so we're going with this. I've mentioned this in previous fics, but I will say this here; I am _not_ a fan of torture, so for at least that, you should never have to deal with that in my fics so no worries.
> 
> _!!!_ If you would like to skip pass the violent bits, there will bit a little * at the beginning of the paragraph when it passes. If you want to play it entirely safe, you will have to skip the entire thing up until the (xxx) in the paragraph break, and in the bottom note I will summarize everything in the first part so you still have context!

The palm that covered his mouth gripped him with force. Yanking his head back as the blade sunk up, his fingers dug against the hand along his face, trying desperately to tear free, to shout, to _anything_ , but every scream was muffled by palms that he could not remove. His breath came in short, as thick fingers that were sunk against his cheek wrenched his face to the side, forcing their way past his lips; the pads rubbed against the front of his teeth, tasting like dirt and salt as Revyn tried to jerk away.

There was hot breath against his ear, as Revyn's hand snapped back to reach for the hilt of the blade to pull it out because it _burned,_ and his skin felt both hot and as though a cold wind was moving through him, heat pooling wet down his back when he heard an obscene groan beside his ear, before the blade was yanked out with a grunt. The cry died behind the hands pressed against and inside his mouth, fingers brushing back towards his molars where Revyn tried to bite, teeth sinking into their skin and drawing blood, but they didn't remove their hand. Revyn tried clawing back, kicking and thrashing as an arm scooped around his middle and he was forcibly dragged to a nearby stall.

He couldn't see anything, there were spots in his vision and it was so dark; the moon obscured by thick clouds as a mixture of the first drops of freezing rain began to fall and snow flurries drenched his clothes. His heels dragged, but the harder he shoved the harder it was to breathe, gasping with hot tears welling in his eyes as whoever had him twisted him around and manhandled him with ease; with a grunt, they slammed Revyn's back against a cluttered market stall, the back of his head impacting with something metal that caused him to see white, sobbing out as he locked up in pain. 

It had knocked the wind out of him, body seizing up as a violent tremour wracked his body, gasping terrified as someone stepped between his legs and hunched over him. His hand instinctually tried to push them away, tried closing his legs, a weak hand trying to get a grip on - _on anything_ \- but there wasn't anything to leverage on, nothing he could grasp or seize that wasn't splintered; he heard a sharp wet sniff as he choked on the fingers in his mouth, pulling out only far enough to grab his jaw, forcing his mouth open wide before Revyn felt something sharp press against his exposed throat; he froze.

Despite the howling of the sharp winds, the only thing Revyn could hear was the loud rapid beating of his heart stuttering in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. His breathing was harsh and ragged, short with the open puncture freely bleeding him throbbing dully against the wooden stall, as wide terrified eyes tried to make out the face before him. Blinking away the welling water in his eyes, the cold stinging as he looked his attacker over in a wild hazed panic. The shape of the nose, the eyes, his vision was so fuzzy but he- he recognized them.

Recognized him.

"You look so precious," Calixto hummed, his voice low and husky and his breath reeked of fish. "you do, you do. I wish you could see yourself. See you the way I see you."

Revyn tried jerking out of his hold but the Imperial held on tight, the knife a cold press as Calixto licked his lips. "This ain't- it ain't personal. I want you to know that," he said, his adam's-apple bobbing as he swallowed, closing his mouth halfway to suck something from the front of his teeth. "No, I really like you Revyn. Like you a lot actually. I do, I do. You have been kind and nice and I hate to do this, and I am- I am _sorry_ that I had to use dishonesty to get you to me." his thumb slipped up to press against the hollow of Revyn's cheek, as he looked inside the dunmer's mouth. "Such a pretty smile, Revyn. You've got no rot, all your teeth, nice and clean. I need them. If-if any of my girls had teeth like yours I would have let you go. I wish I could have let you go." a sniff, "did you like the gift I left you?"

Revyn recoiled as Calixto moved his face closer, almost touching, and Revyn didn't have any idea what he was talking about as the other gave a short sad little smile. "It's okay if you didn't notice. Nord woman, she worked the docks you know. Wide hips, pretty teeth. Front teeth anyways. Not as nice as yours. When I killed her, I made sure she swallowed them." Revyn made a gagging sound, trying to speak, but was cut off by Calixto's drop of his head, cheek pressed against the dunmer's cheek as he breathily huffed out against his ear, "I wish we could have done this in a place that could have warranted a bit more..- privacy."

Revyn choked, tears streaming and struggling to get his tongue to work but he couldn't close his jaw, couldn't speak, and he felt so cold and numb, as he tried to shove Calixto off of him but his arms were so _weak_ and -

"You deserved a little bit more privacy," Calixto murmured, and Revyn struggled to reach his eyes as the other parted back a bit to face him, "hate for your sister to find you like this but it was unavoidable. I'll be sure to send my condolences, and if you stay still and quiet, I promise I won't cut your throat. It can wait till you're dead. You can bleed out. I'll let you bleed out. You only have a few more minutes left but that's okay, it's okay." his nose brushed against the hair right above Revyn's ear, who tried to hook his leg between their bodies to try and kick him off, but moving his leg up was so hard when it needed muscles that had been sliced through. He averted his eyes with a grimace, but the Imperial was anything but deterred.

"When you're done here I'll take what I need from you," the smell of him was rancid, and Revyn tried to think of home, "and if you're very good, I'll leave your body untouched. Would you like that? Clothes still on? If you stay quiet and good for me, I'll do that for you. Won't defile a thing. This isn't-" Revyn was struggling with the welling up of tears, the fear in his chest raging like a swarm, hysteria just behind his throat he kept swallowing down, "- is not personal. No, not personal. I just need your teeth. She needs your teeth. She needs..- you, you have a sister, yah? I know you understand what it's like to love a baby sister. I know you would understand. You would do this too if you had to, Revyn. For her, I know you would. I know you would do anything for yours. I have to. I have to. I have to do this for her."

Revyn reached numbly up towards the other's face to shove him away, his muscles quaking and failing from blood loss, and Calixto pushed his wrist away effortlessly. His sharp eyes dropped down to the other's waist, as he pulled the knife back from the dunmer's throat. He was hyperventilating and he couldn't stop, trying to put up a fight but it hurt too much, it hurt so much. Wild eyes seeking out - out anything, anyone - for a guard, an open window, _anything_ ; but there was nobody, his heart was pounding and he felt a numbness rise in his chest, the feeling in his arms like pinpricks. A hand touched his hip, fingers dragging down under his thigh as his leg was lifted, hearing the other tsk.

"Gods, what a waste," and even as Revyn tried to pull back, he couldn't stop his ragged breathing long enough to shout, he tried to make a sound but he didn't have it in his chest. He felt so winded, it hurt so much. "I hope you know I could have killed you yesterday," Calixto ran his palm along the others hip, and Revyn felt the intense need to vomit, "I was going to. Your home is real private, you know. Could have taken you to bed, got you comfortable. Disemboweled you where you were safe and I could have taken my time with you. Have your body with me all night. No part of you would have gone to waste. Honoured you like a hunter honours a deer. But I thought you deserved a nice dinner. A nice last night. I hope it tasted good. Hope he tasted good. Yesterday was a gift from me, Revyn. I want you to remember that. You were only alive because I allowed it. You're only still breathing now because I allow it."

Revyn gasped shakily, as a weak hand tried to shove at the grip on his jaw, coughing and desperate, and eventually, Calixto seemed to release, though more of his own choice than by any force Revyn could have put behind it. 

As soon as he was able to speak he hissed out; " _Please, don't-_ " but Calixto only seemed to press closer, and Revyn knew it wouldn't do anything but he couldn't get his body to move, couldn't get the strength to shove the other off of him, couldn't- " _you don't have t-to do this, you don't_ -"

"My sister deserves the best," Calixto cut him off, "I just want to give Lucilla her smile back."

A hysterical sob broke out from Revyn's throat, and all he could think about was how he was going to abandon Idesa. He could feel his limbs failing, and with every lack luster shove, every shortened breath, he just felt more and more like he was failing her; like he was leaving her behind, and the grief he felt at not being able to be there for her was horrific and jarring and hit him like a brick.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and with whatever he had left in him that hadn't stained the snow, he used it to jerk up his knee with as much force as he could muster, and slammed it against the side of Calixto's ribcage. 

The Imperial jerked off of him, a harsh wheeze followed by a sharp exhale against gritted teeth as Revyn pushed from the countertop and crumpled, legs failing him as his hands slammed against loose gravel, trying to catch himself. The drop caused him to see white, clenching his jaw to bite through it as he attempted to get up, but his vision was foggy and unclear and he just- he couldn't focus on anything, and the need to lie down was almost as strong as his need to run, and they clashed and clashed and Revyn was rendered immobile. He heard the scrape of boots near him, blinking away the white, only to see the black that has soaked into the snow, blood looking like ink in the moonlight, clinging to the muddy cobblestone.

"I asked you to be good," and a hand grabbed Revyn by the chin, upturning it. Revyn's breath loud and harsh, the wind whistling in his ears as he saw a dark shadow dash his direction from the corner of his eyes. Calixto slipped his hand against his hip, a flash of a blade, "Why can't any of you ever behave?"

Revyn grit his teeth and closed his eyes.

He flinched when he heard impact but didn't feel it, and he waited, but no pain came. He looked back up at his attacker and he saw Calixto hunched over, and he was laughing, though the sound was completely silent. Unnerved, Revyn tried to push back as Calixto stumbled, and touched something against his neck, and Revyn finally noticed the arrow protruding. Calixto was wide-eyed and with his mouth agape, spit flying in a scream of laughter that simply did not come, his fingers wrapping around the arrowhead when Revyn heard another thud and the Imperial jerked.

The front of his chest darkened. He heard a sharper impact, like a _crack_ as Calixto's head jerked forward, and collapsed in the momentum. His head slamming against the corner of the merchant counter on his way down that snapped the arrow protruding from his forehead, and Revyn could not stop staring.

Revyn's breath came in short and loud, shaking as an ink well spread into the cobblestone, filling the cracks that splintered out like a spider's web. He heard rapid steps rush his direction and it violently jerked him from his stupor, where fear and panic had him trying to scramble back, unseeing and terrified where at most he was able to move a foot or so away, a laugh bubbling up from his throat in a wretched in between of feeling his vision fading, entirely unable to stand let alone defend himself, and the grief he felt at knowing with every failure to get to his feet, his back drenched in wet heat, Idesa was going to be left alone.

He hurt so much, and he thought of her face. Tried to get his legs under him as he tried to recall the sound of her laugh; and there was so much guilt in his chest for being such an idiot, for doing this to her when his arms were giving out and his head hung as the laughs turned to a weak cry and there was someone rushing to him but he just didn't have any fight left in him to do anything about it.

* Hands reached him and he winced, before an arm hooked under his knees and another around his back, hoisting him into the air. The sudden movement had his wound flare up, and Revyn couldn't muffle the sob that tore from his throat and-

"I have you," there was pressure pressed against the wound and they were moving and there was panic in their voice and the world looked so blurry, "I have you, please just hang on, we're going to get help, please stay awake for me-"

Revyn tried to look up, and saw stone there, and he only wanted to cry harder, though he didn't know if it was from relief or something else. His arms were trembling, collapsed along his belly as exhaustion washed over him as a distinct feeling of- of safety hit him. He let his head fall against the front of the other's shoulder, the armour uncomfortable but he smelled- he smelled like charred firewood. He smelled like pine.

Revyn wanted to speak, say anything at this point, but his tongue was useless as relief flooded him. 

Snow fell against his face, melting against his skin, his legs swaying limply as the other seemed to be running. He shouted at someone just a little further down the way, feeling the vibration of it more so than anything else, something about bodies but they never stopped moving; though Revyn did hear more shouting along their path, followed closely by the sound of heavily armoured boots against the street as they faded down the way. They never stopped moving.

Revyn never looked away from the stone mask as Galvorn dashed onward, his hand moving up to press against the chest plate, the tremours never stopped, and there was a rush of unbridled affection he felt each and every time the bosmer seemed to momentarily downturn his head to check on the dunmer in his arms. Revyn felt an unmatched need to sleep, but some quiet part of his consciousness begged him not to, as he unthinkingly reached up towards Galvorn's mask.

His fingers phased through the illusion, blinking a bit slow as he met the tense set line of the bosmer's mouth, parted and breathing hard. Galvorn's head dipped down a fraction, seemingly momentarily taken aback before almost leaning against the touch; Revyn felt the faint press of his lips against his hand before the other pulled away. The lights were dimmer here.

"We're almost there, you're doing so good, I'm so proud of you," his voice was so much softer, though there was an edge to him that sounded so dark, as Revyn let his hand fall back to his belly; cold. Galvorn smelled really nice; his thoughts a slow muddled drip of how strong the other was for being able to hold him all this way, saddened he'd gotten blood all over the coat he'd been given, and how keeping his eyes open was such a chore. They seemed to stop running as Galvorn shifted, and there was a loud knocking against a door, which sounded more like a few good kicks, but when something didn't happen they started moving again. Turning back around, and for a moment, Revyn recognized the damaged gargoyles above Greystone as they seemed to leave it, though they didn't get very far until Gal was kicking at another door, shouting; had he been shouting? But there was a light this time before Galvorn almost left.

He knew the voice, but the only part that cut clear through his haze was Galvorn's sharp reverberation of " _Get me in Greystone, now_." and they were off again. The movement was making him feel sick, light-headed, and he doesn't know where he is anymore as his eyes slid shut, listening to the fall of heavy steps and Galvorn's sharp breathing, and there was more knocking, more shouting, more light against closed eyelids before Galvorn's hands briefly gripped him tighter before he was in someone else's arms entirely.

Then, nothing.

xxx

When Revyn awoke, he thought he was dead.

He certainly felt dead. Inhaling sharply as if he'd awoken from a prolonged sleep rather than whatever had gone wrong. There was a disgusting taste in his mouth, lips parted and mouth dried out as his brows furrowed and he tried to- to figure out where he was.

Recollection of what had happened to him didn't crash against him as it yawned into him, bits and pieces flooding back and he lied there feeling like a dead weight against what seemed to be covers on a cot. The blankets unfamiliar as they were heavy, and the smell of the room was overpoweringly unfamiliar.

He had vague.. memories, in and out of wakefulness, of talking, and crying, and so much yelling. But some of it was quiet, and someone would have his chin and pour something warm and herbal in his mouth, and he was sometimes cognizant enough to swallow. Other times his head would be lulled off and there would be a hand holding his, squeezing, shaking, and it'd be dark with the oil lamps burned out until he fell asleep again.

Waking up now was gradual, drool drying on the corner of his mouth, his head with a dull throb stemming from the base of his neck. Revyn tried to bring his hands up to rub at his cheeks, but only one seemed to get very far. The dunmer recognized the pressure in one hand, fingers interlaced between his own, where his other hand finally made its mark, rubbing against the sleep from his cheeks, inhaling largely as his eyes finally fluttered open, hand dropping to rest on his waist.

His limbs were still half asleep, and ached when he shifted, his vision was hazy and confused as he was greeted with a wall and a face full of hair.

Revyn blinked, assessing his surroundings quickly when he did not recognize the room he was in, but he very much recognized the hair. Dark and coarse, braided up in a puffy middle mohawk where Idesa was curled up over the covers, fast asleep beside him. Her shoes were off, and her arms were tucked between them, face slack but cheeks darkened, breathing slow and unaware of Revyn's stirring. He exhaled, noticing she didn't look hurt at all, as his eyes shifted to the covers, the room-

Grey bland walls, a few empty beds along them with covers cleaned up and folded at the bottom, none in use. He noticed that he didn't have his overshirt on anymore, didn't have the coat or anything to replace either, as he went to reach for the blankets, watching as they slipped down far enough to see the edges of bandages around his middle, before realizing someone was still grasping his hand.

Revyn only remembered it when he went to push himself upright and that hand let go, only to press against his shoulders to keep him still as he groggily looked up to see Ambarys there, half leaned out of his seat with tension between his brows and his clothing fairly disheveled.

"Oh, no you don't." though his voice was quiet, there was a plea there masked as a demand, gently pushing Revyn to lie back. "You need to rest, you're still real messed up."

Revyn exhaled, frowning a bit but did what he was told, dragging his hands up to rub at his face, fingers brushing back through his hair as he glanced around. "Wh-what are you-" oh his voice sounded _atrocious_. Wincing a bit at how hoarse that was, clearing his throat as he tried again with. "What are you doing here, Ambarys?"

Ambarys frowned at him, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, "Taliesin asked me t' keep an eye on you. Make sure you didn' crash again."

Revyn's brows furrowed, "again?"

Ambarys' expression was a bit vacant, his lips pressing in a thinner line when he said. "It's been a really bad few days, Revyn."

Revyn jolted a bit, shoulders drawing up as he pushed himself half upright to his elbows, " _Days_?"

His _shop_. He had- there was blood in the market, the bodies, was- he - Revyn dropped his eyes to Idesa, wrapping his arm around his middle where his hand touched the spot he'd been stabbed, feeling a dull ache there but it wasn't unbearable. A hand touched his arm and he flinched, though Ambarys didn't let it deter him and kept his hand put.

"There's.. some stuff I gotta tell you, but I-" he faltered, clearly having built something up in his head but the words died when he said, "What- do you- do you remember what happened?"

Revyn looked down at Ambarys hand, before glancing off as he struggled to sit up further before Ambarys sighed a bit loud and helped him up this time. His back pressed against the cold stone, though Ambarys helped pull up the pillow where the wound is, so he wasn't putting pressure there, thanking him quietly. He was careful not to disturb Idesa, which was a feat considering she was a light sleeper; the fact that their whispering alone hadn't woken her up spoke volumes about her exhaustion, and Revyn couldn't help but wonder if the medication she'd been given worked.

He watched her a very long moment. Sort of just..- feeling relieved he got to see her again. The stirrings of the grief from before was by no means gone, and the pit in his stomach had been paralyzing. Yet, he was here, and she was here, and he didn't abandon her. There was a strong feeling of wanting to just wake her because he wanted to speak with her so much, but she clearly needed the rest, and so let it be for now. 

Revyn inhaled slow, before letting his hands fall to his lap, tilting his head back against the stone with an exhale.

"Uhm," he swallowed, throat dry and not at all sure what to say, and after a long while, he just nodded. "I uhm, yes. Yes, I remember."

Almost wished he didn't. He could still smell the miasmic heat of his attacker's breath against his face, his threats still ringing in his ears. He buried his fingers into his covers, and with a sniff, lowered his eyes to look at his hands when he continued with, "Well- what do you know?"

Ambarys inhaled a bit sharp, leaning back in his seat a fraction, and Revyn found it curious that the barkeep seemed to hesitate to remove his touch. "Well uh, I know Calixto Corrium was the Butcher," he pulled back, his hands folding between his knees, not looking up very often as he spoke. "There weren't any reports as to why he killed all those women, wasn't nothin' about the attack you went through other than two guards were found dead, and one person was wounded, you. Lotta word floating about how the killer was shot dead by the dragonborn. No names other than his. Lotta blood. Had the market shut down the whole day while the guards got the scene cleaned up."

"I didn't get named?" and Ambarys shook his head but there was still tension against his mouth.

"No, but folks have been askin' where you went. Harassin' Idesa about you, who, mind ya', has been runnin' your shop durin' the day. Locals s'pect you got hurt, but we've not told anybody."

Revyn dropped his eyes down towards Idesa, watching the steady rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed, curled up on her side. Revyn didn't say anything, and was unlikely to, when Ambarys shifted, the wooden chair creaking a bit before he seemed to sigh.

"You- you wanna talk about what happened?"

Revyn didn't lift his eyes from his sister, "There isn't anything more to discuss, I don't think."

"What were you even doin' out that late in the market for?" and Revyn sighed a bit annoyed as he shook his head.

"I don't have a good answer for you, Ambarys, I was being foolish about something and I got misled." which reminded him, his eyes darting about the room in search of- "Oh, uh, what happened to my coat?"

The barkeep made a little 'hm' sound, as though he wasn't pleased about the subject change, when he said, "ah, I think Taliesin had it last. Mentioned something about handing it off to get it fixed and cleaned up." Revyn swallowed the feeling of disappointment as soon as it hit. He pressed his mouth together, picking a bit idly at the bandages around his middle.

"Uhm, right," irrationally saddened he ruined the clothing, Revyn lulled his head a bit to look at Ambarys more fully, "How..- did I get here, exactly? I remember a little but nothing specific towards the end."

He watched his friend as he seemed to mentally prepare himself a bit, and it was odd to see the darker shapes under his eyes. There was tension seeping from him, with uncomfortable shifts as he repositioned the way he sat, and didn't say anything at first. Revyn almost spoke up to see if he was alright, when Ambarys started with, "I don't know everythin' that went down, but your tall masked friend almost kicked down my door tryin' to get help. The door wasn't locked because I work later hours over the weekend, so I was ah- confused why someone was knocking so damn loud. Got to the door to see uh," he pressed his lips into a tense line, sniffing when he said, "uhm- well uh, let's say it made sense, I guess, that he couldn't open a door, 'cause he had an armful of you. An' you were jus'... bad. You looked _bad_."

Revyn had so many questions but didn't have time to voice any of them. "You were jus' - you were limp and there was just a lot- a lot of jus'-" he had both of his hands moving as he spoke, and he was making a gesture over his stomach as he tried to get over the mental hurdle of just saying it; "blood, jus' blood. All down the front of his armour, on his hands, on yours. He yelled at me to get inside Greystone, and we ran. He couldn't get inside, or they weren't answering him and he couldn't sit you down because you jus' - you were bleedin' so much. Taliesin kept makin' comments about your friends' fast thinkin' about putting pressure on your wound, and that it probably kept you alive long enough to get you to him. Door wasn't locked, and I had to make a lot of noise to get someone downstairs. It was Awen at first, who ran off and got Taliesin and your friend handed you off and had to leave. Think he had to deal with the butcher business, but he's been stopping by every day to check-in. Spoke with Idesa this morning, real nice fella."

Revyn had half-believed he hallucinated Galvorn's involvement, though he listened to Ambarys explanation rather numbly.

He should be dead right now.

He's not, but he should be. Was supposed to be.

Galvorn saved his life, and Revyn didn't know at all what to do with that information.

He looked Ambarys over, lax as he asked, a bit quiet, "why did you stay?"

Ambarys got a strange confused look over his face when he said, "why would I be anywhere else?"

Revyn snorted, though the sound was light and airy, "I don't know, at work?"

Ambarys gave him a short bemused smile, "My closest friend was almost killed. I don't think I'll be much in the way of-of friendly customer service right now," he pulled his elbow up to rest on his knee, propping his chin, "Malthyr is smart and knows what to do, he can run the place jus' fine when I'm not there. I wanted to be with you."

Revyn smiled at him, mumbling something close to ' _sap_ ' and he was thankful that his friend didn't look so grim anymore; and so the days went.

It wasn't too long for Taliesin to return and fully explain what had happened and what he had done; Revyn had gotten a fever. A rather nasty one as his blood pressure was impossibly low and his heart had nearly stopped multiple times as the healer worked through the night to keep him alive. He had stabilized by morning, but it was an uncertain time for the first two days; explaining that he was, fortunately, able to somewhat clean the wound, continuing on that he would have used normal healing spells if there had been a cleaner cut. He expressed that the weapon had quickly encouraged infection, and closing it up right away would have caused him to go into septic shock, as the wound only trapped the infection, not cleaned it. Revyn was given a long list of herbs he was meant to ingest during his time under Taliesin's care, who cleaned the wound twice a day for several days until he was comfortable enough to fully close the gash, though happily expressed to Revyn that he was healing rather well on his own.

Then, of course, Idesa.

When she had awoken and realized he was awake, it was like a dam had broken. All her anger and fear and grief came out like a hurricane as she held him and yelled at him for hours for being so foolish and stupid; Revyn was just thankful that he was there to hear it. There was so much rage and terror in her face, holding his as she ran her hands over his cheeks and through his hair, almost as though he would simply slip through her fingers if she didn't. Revyn wasn't even ashamed that he broke first, unable to stiffen his lower lip as there were apologies on his lips and her anger drained to sobs as soon as his arms reached for her and she yanked him into a hard hug. Like a pair of scared children, fingers digging into shoulder's and buried faces, they broke. Idesa clung to him as though he would vanish if he left her sight, and they wept; for a long time they just wept.

It took such a long while for them to mostly calm down, Idesa unmoving with her cheek against his shoulder and arms unwilling to unwrap around him, as Revyn's hands were folded behind her, cheek against the top of her head with her hair in his face but not having the energy to push it away.

Once they caught their breath and mostly calmed, Idesa just had so much to tell him; much of it mumbled against his shoulder, but speaking all the same.

There were signs of necromancy in Calixto's homestead, she learned, old journals were discovered as well as recent; they found all the kept body parts of the victims, where all of which were being sent to the hall of the dead to handle and return where appropriate. She said she wasn't really supposed to say, but she'd been speaking with his 'rather tall friend' Gal and that he was keeping her updated on the state of things as he found out and collected more information. There were a few journal entries about Revyn, though Idesa did not know what they said, other than she knows they exist. 

"He seemed rather bothered by it." as Idesa went on to update him on the state of the store and the folks asking about him. Revyn almost wanted to ask which Market stall he had bled all over, but it felt too morbid a question and left it be.

Idesa was with him as often as she possibly could be, as the days continued; between nannying and keeping up on the shop, she's made a little helper of her charge who was having fun running things alongside her, as she expressed rather fondly to Revyn about how he almost treats it like a game; it was rather funny to hear, he thought, because Revyn recalls how Idesa did much the same when she was just as little.

Then, of course, there was Ambarys. Ambarys who was here almost just as often; usually bringing food with him and a book to read when Revyn was too tired to talk. He would often chat idly about events as the butcher incident had finally come to pass and the state of the city was trying to move on, even despite the gossip that hasn't stopped buzzing. He tried to discuss lighter things, and Revyn was thankful for his company, even when it was oddly clear there were other things he wanted to talk about, but didn't have the courage to do so.

So Revyn focused on recovering, on checking his ledger that Idesa would bring him each night to triple check her numbers, and was pleased to find very little and often no mistakes. He would walk around the room as soon as he had enough strength to do so, almost always with Taliesin's help, and would drink every bitter tonic as it was given, and feel mostly alright.

He would dream, falling asleep alone at night, but they were less nightmares as they were flashes of memories, muddled and mixed up, and he often dreamed of Gal.

Revyn didn't find it very odd that despite the fact Galvorn stopped by daily to check in, he never saw him. Outlanders were not really allowed inside Greystone, outside of course special or extreme circumstances; and since Galvorn is only Revyn's known acquaintance and friend, it's no real wonder Awen continued to stop him at the door, and will only speak with him there. From what he's heard from Idesa, Gal hasn't attempted to enter or force his way through and has nice amicable conversations with the people here before leaving. He stops by the shop to see Idesa and speaks with her as well, and she's told Revyn numerous times how charming and kind he has been.

Revyn might be focusing on the aspect that it's Galvorn, because Idesa has also mentioned others who have asked after him and his well being a few times as well. Other dunmer, a few regulars, and so on.

It just felt different with Galvorn.

Though, Revyn had found it rather strange, a few days before his release, that Ambarys was actually allowed to visit; _usually_ , that was reserved exclusively for family, and hadn't really thought about it until his last day.

Taliesin pressing his fingers around where the gash had once been and was having Revyn rate the pain, as he carefully poured ounces of healing along the cut. The skin knitting itself fully back together once the threat of infection returning was entirely and thankfully obsolete. It stung, as it fully closed, but since his skin had been healing mostly on its own at this point, it was relatively surface level, the muscles a bit weakened still, but he had a package of herbs he was to continue to take for the following week outside of their care. Revyn keeping in mind that he had an appointment with Taliesin by the end of the week, keeping it noted that he would have to return so that the other could accurately gauge whether or not he would require more, and see how well things are returning to normal. Taliesin made a small noise, sharp eyes looking over the space before finally straightening up, making a few notes off to the side as he gathered a few of his things.

"No fevers, headaches?" he asked, and Revyn shook his head, straightening up as well. Taliesin nodded, pleased, "Good, I'll bring you your things. Once you're fully presentable, however, Madame Llavrana requested your presence. Something urgent."

Revyn felt his stomach _drop_.

He blinked a bit dull, before shortly nodding. Taliesin didn't seem to think anything of it, relaxed as he finished his scribbling and gestured for him to sit, leaving the room.

She knows.

She knows about the kiss.

He thought he had avoided it. She hadn't said anything in _days_ , why now? Taliesin returned with the clothing.

Revyn nodded this thanks, accepting the coat a bit numbly as his eyes found the stitches along the back. They faded into the fabric well, and there was no blood anywhere he could see; discreetly pulling the coat to his face told him it had been washed, and washed well. It didn't smell of anyone anymore. His shirt had received the same treatment, as he threw it on, feeling irrationally saddened by a lack of something that shouldn't even matter, anxiousness settling in the pit of his stomach and he was so convinced he was going to have a head full of white hair before he returned home; he hadn't seen his reflection in days. Pulling it on his shoulders, he slowly strapped up his shoes and grabbed the package offered to him by Taliesin on his way out the room. The healer led Revyn towards the front, but continued on up by the stairs, and the pair of them ascended to the following floor.

The space they entered looked like a large furnished sitting chamber, where he noticed both Ambarys and Idesa sitting. He stopped dead at the top step, eyeing the pair of them in confusion, where across from them sat Madame Llavrana. Awen was stood straight behind her, expression carefully blank, and on the table between them, sat a letter.

A familiar-looking note.

His hand went towards the front coat pocket where he found it empty, and felt immense dread well up in his chest as those crystal clear pale red eyes looked up at him, before gracefully gesturing to the vacant seat before her.

"Revyn," she said, her voice sounding like an echo slipping down the slopes of a mountain peak, "I'm glad you could finally join us, please dear, take a seat. We've much to discuss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, plot?? in MY fic??? We'll return to Gal soon, but first; this. (I was listening to the Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate theme during some of this and can someone explain to me why it goes so HARD. That's the level of uneasy energy that fit's Calixto to me and I'll stand by it.)
> 
> * Upper paragraph summary for those who skimmed/skipped: Revyn had been stabbed and wasn't doing well, as Calixto went into a mad rave about how what he was doing wasn't personal. He made some,, gross comments, continued to insist he needed Revyn's teeth, and was up close and personal during a lot of this. He was planning on simply letting Revyn die on his own and not push things along because he believed he was being merciful by barely extending the others life, but Galvorn was able to successfully take him out. Gal then hastily carried Revyn to safety and sent guards to the scene as he passed the encampments towards the Grey Quarter.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

The smell of frankincense was thick in the air as they stood at the top of the stairway.

It hung in the air in a tangible fog, where Taliesin stepped aside to allow Revyn to pass, who strode forward towards the remaining seat available across from his seer. Wildly conscious of how he was approaching with all eyes on him as he walked onward their way.

Swallowing his discomfort, he discreetly brushed his palms down the sides of the coat, feeling clammy.

He hadn't been in this room before, glancing around to avoid looking anyone in the eyes, as he noted the deep red woven rugs draped over the back of the chairs; the silver threading along the walls that held tapestries both old and new, each depicting stories from ancient tales Revyn didn't have the focus to recall right now. There were candles lining the closed off windowsills, where stained glass sat reflecting a prism of dull colour, passing Ambarys with a glance as he took his seat in the center between the chairs of his friend and sister. The room was uncomfortably quiet, and trying to gauge anything from Idesa told him very little, allowing his hands to drop to his lap wordlessly, as he pointedly did not acknowledge the parchment sitting on the short table between him whatever awaited him across the way.

Madame Llavrana lounged in the seat of a velvet wingback, intricate stitchings spiraling out like smoke, incense burning on the table, the ash falling freely against the stone top with a jar filled halfway with ash set not too far away. He clasped his hands, his eyes carefully reaching those of the wise woman who has said nothing more since he approached. She was in loose-fitting robes, washed in a deeper red than that of the draperies that filled the room, her shoulders lax and hands relaxed against the armrests of her seat.

Madame Llavrana was an elderly dunmer; wise-woman, experienced, and all-seeing. 

Her skin midnight over a raging sea, her palms weathered clay with burns that splintered up her arms like lightning strikes in a dry storm; in contrast, her eyes were a pale red, years of work existing and practicing between realms fading them like a blood moon, her nose broad and her brows clean and set. There was deep age along her eyes, thin and gaunt and beautiful in an otherworldly grace that enveloped her like an angry swarm of wisps. Deep-set traditional red tattoos along her cheeks that spiraled from the back of her bald head, down just before her decorated ears, briefly collecting against her sharp cheekbones to fall straight down her neck and vanish under the neckline of her robes. 

The magic she wielded vanishing the line that divided her mortal vessel and her spirit; the silver trim of her seat framed her, Awen standing straight and unmoving behind her. Her hood was up, obscuring much of her face.

Nothing was said for a long while.

Madame Llavrana simply... watched. Her eyes dragged from Revyn's face to his shoulders. She seemed to examine the way he held himself, seemed to dissect, and pick through the very layers he wrapped himself in when she finally allowed her head to tilt faintly to the side.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" her voice was the wind that slipped through the tall weeds in a meadow, and it was disarming as it was deceiving. Revyn gave a short nod, careful with his movements.

"Nearly fully back to normal, thanks of course to Master Darevo, Mistress." he was worried he was speaking too fast, careful and deliberate as he said, "Thank you for allowing my presence to recuperate and use your facilities."

Madame Llavrana gave a short nod, and Revyn felt particularly like a field mouse that had wandered too far from home.

"I'm pleased to hear you have recovered quickly," her voice dragged, and it felt almost as though it were brushing along his skin, "pleased as well to hear that there should not be any long term complications as a result of the incident, is that right Taliesin?"

Taliesin stood practically stationed by the stairwell, giving her a quick nod, but said nothing else. Madame Llavrana never took her eyes away from Revyn, leaning her head back before a smile reached her lips.

"You've grown into a fine mer, haven't you?" Revyn didn't know how to respond to that and opted to simply say nothing. Her eyes dragged over him, her stare the grip that carries the hunted stag. "It's unfortunate that we must address some of your behaviours, dear boy." her tongue against the back of her front teeth, "It has come to my attention you have become friends with an Outlander."

Revyn bit the inside of his cheek, giving a short nod.

She leaned forward, hand outstretching and Revyn was proud of himself for not flinching. The wise-woman's hands were spindly, her fingers thin and like a black widow's legs unfurling as she gently picked up the parchment on the table. Revyn said nothing, watching her drop her eyes to the script, though she did not read out loud. Revyn fought off his instinct to squirm, watching her a bit restless while she finished, allowing her grip against the note to fall to her knee, arms crossing at the wrist as she inhaled.

"I suppose you understand why I summoned you."

Revyn gave her a short nod, uncomfortable.

"Yes," he swallowed, mouth feeling a bit dry as he tried to explain, "if you have what I believe you have, it was written by Calixto." a faint eyebrow rose as he spoke, but he pushed through despite the nervousness wracking his insides, "He was made aware that I was having dinner with a friend, due to negligence of my own in trying to have him hurry from my store. He wrote that letter based on assumptions of my relationship with my friend, which I admit had read strangely when I received it."

' _Read Strangely_ ' might have been an understatement, considering he had some doubts Galvorn had actually written it, and yet.. he still went. Still went because there was some chance Galvorn had and Revyn wanted to see him.

His justifications for doing so were flimsy at best, but she did not ask and he would not say.

Madame Llavrana returned her eyes to him, and there was a short smile that touched her lips but it felt wrong somehow. She breathed slow, deliberate, regarding him.

"Revyn," she began, her voice smooth and edged with pity, "I have known you since you were an infant. I was there for not only your naming's, or Idesa's, but for your dear parents, and their parents before them." Revyn's stomach tied into knots, guilt welling up his chest, "I hope you understand that I do love you, Revyn. I love you and I care about you greatly. I worry every day about the health of everyone in my charge, and I am deeply disturbed by what happened to you this past week." There was disappointment in her voice, and Revyn had never felt so small.

"I'm sorry-"

"I know you are." she spoke over him, and Revyn went quiet at her tone. "You must understand, these are dangerous times and you being flippant with your life in such a manner cannot happen again, do you understand me?" Revyn nodded, his hands clasping between his knees, heat in the back of his neck as she sat forward, "I do love you, we all love you, we are all here because we love you. We are here because we are worried about you. I am worried about you." she lifted the note up, holding the parchment aloft between her index and middle, "and despite this, I am still obligated as wise-woman and seer, to address this sort of behavior with you. I don't need to tell you what this letter says, and I do not have to ask what you were even thinking or why you were such an easy target for the Butcher to play with. You know why. I know why. What need's addressed is how we are going to handle this little indiscretion, now that I've been made aware you have a soft spot for an outlander."

Revyn's shoulders rose up, "No, it's not-"

"Enough of an infatuation that you were willing to walk out in the middle of the night to try and speak with them, knowing the streets were impossibly dangerous." Revyn closed his mouth, heat rushing to his face and his eyes dropped uncomfortably to the table between them. Llavrana was silent a long moment, and he heard her sigh.

"Revyn," her voice was a fraction softer, "look at me when I'm speaking to you." _oh_ he felt like such a child, chewing the inside of his cheek as he returned his eyes and she had her head cocked at him, before smiling when he did as he was told. "Thank you, love." she lifted the letter over her shoulder, which Awen took. Llavrana allowed her wrists to cross over her knee, relaxed, "I think you're a fine mer, Revyn," she said lightly, "I think you're bright, hard-working, honest, and I know you wouldn't do anything to disappoint me on purpose. No, what I think happened was a lapse of judgment, that's all. No harm done. This was a test of your character, and I believe the.. consequences you faced of those actions were swift and just. Nothing more to be done on my end."

He felt.. sick. His hand momentarily reaching for where the stab had been before stopping himself short. Swallowing, he nodded.

Madame Llavrana smiled, "I'm glad you agree." a breath, then, "you're very fortunate, my dear, that I have experience in this field. While I have no doubts that you have not tarnished your virtue, I will have to hear you say it, and tell us what your intentions with this outlander happen to be, because I am curious."

Revyn felt hot and uncomfortable all over, feeling several eyes on him as he said with a breath, "Gal is just a friendly acquaintance. He's done some work for me in the past and refused payment. I offered food, and he had accepted. It's nothing more than a fair exchange, and decent company."

Madame Llavrana watched him carefully as he spoke, "then do you know why he has returned every day, asking on the state of your health?"

Revyn didn't know exactly, but he had a few good guesses, opting to say, "From what little I know about him, he is a.. a 'do-good-recklessly' sort. He saved my life that night, and it's not unlikely it simply matters to him for that reason alone. I imagine if any other person had been in my stead and the outcome was similar, he would be behaving exactly the same," he shifted a bit, "but that's mostly my guess, Mistress. I-I can't really know for certain unless I spoke with him about it."

"It's true, Mistress," Idesa spoke up for once, but Llavrana never removed her eyes from Revyn, "he stops by the shop to check in on me as well, while Revyn has been recovering, making sure I don't need anything and has even run a few errands for me. He's helpful, and kind. It may not be much more than just that."

"I'm well aware of this outlander's usefulness," she responded, dismissive, "Revyn I asked you to reiterate that your virtue is still intact."

"I- well, it is?" he said, a bit confused, "wouldn't you know?"

"Look me in the eyes," her expression dropping, "Say it."

Revyn felt cold and tried not to fidget under her stare, doing as he was told as he leveled his eyes with the seer, "My virtue is still intact."

Madame Llavrana studied him for a very long few moments, her eyes seeming to reach under layer upon layer, before smiling. Revyn sat unmoving, watching as she leaned back, and the air momentarily felt less suffocating.

"You're a good boy, Revyn," and her tone was soft again, "A very good boy. Now," her hands clasped together, "We are your family, are we not?" Revyn gave a soft nod, "I thought so. In many ways, you're like a grandchild to me, Revyn. I watched your parents raise you into a respectable young mer, and you have done a wonderful job with Idesa in their stead, may they rest." a smile, "you would do anything for your family, wouldn't you? You would do what you must for those you care deeply for, yes?"

"Of course, Mistress," his brows furrowed in confusion, responding slow with uncertainty but wanting to please, "Obviously I would."

"Good, this should be easy for you then," Madame Llavrana hummed, the sound of it like the stress of a ship weathering against a difficult storm, "You are never to see the outlander again, do you understand?"

_Do you understand?_

No. He really didn't.

He swallowed his dismay alongside the inexplicable sudden need to shout how unfair that felt; he hadn't done anything so extreme to _warrant_ something like that - reminding himself sharply before his upset manifested that his seer knew best, she knew best, she-

It just didn't _feel_ right. This felt unnecessarily cold against someone who had done nothing but show him kindness, against someone who listened to him and-and what was he even going to do? Kick out the person who- who kept him from _dying,_ from his store? Revyn was many things, but ungrateful isn't one of them. Yet- disregarding the demands of his wise-woman simply wasn't an option.

Revyn was unsure what to say, and just sat there; Llavrana continued, her fingers drumming along the stiff armrest of her seat, "he is not of the culture," and she said it as though it had been a _choice_ \- "he is not of the family. He is a useful tool, and nothing more. Your interest in him should never surpass what you can utilize him for, and that is it." she lifted her opposite hand up, making a slow sweeping gesture at the merchant before her, "However, let's be practical, due to the nature of the letter and your clear lapse of self-control, it is safer for you to never allow that sort of temptation to come anywhere near you to begin with." emphasis in the way she quirked down the edge of her lips, "he will never have your best interests in mind. Outlanders will only use you, play with you like a toy and leave you uncertain as to what you did wrong as soon as they're gone. I'm just trying to look out for my family, and I'm only asking you to listen to yours. We are here for you. You don't need anybody other than us, Revyn. You have plenty of friends, and loved ones, all here for you and willing to do anything for you, if you simply ask."

Revyn was proud of himself for swallowing down his disbelief before it manifested on his face.

That just- that can't be right.

"I understand," but he thought back to that night on the floor of Galvorn's home, and-

If outlanders only exist to use him, then why didn't it feel that way? He didn't feel like he was being used, even in some far-reaching sense, it just didn't. Galvorn had cleaned his home, had made him dinner, had him talking and laughing until his face hurt, and Revyn had felt safe. They had been alone for a few hours, in a remote place that nobody really knew Revyn had been, and while that _had_ been rather foolish in retrospect, Galvorn had every opportunity to cause him harm and he just.. hadn't. Instead, he had allowed Revyn to pull off his mask, told him his name, asked about boundaries and made his intentions clear, asked permission and he-he didn't push anything further than what Revyn was comfortable with. He walked him home when he was asked to. When they kissed it hadn't- it hadn't left him feeling vulgar or violated, and to call him a _tool_ and nothing further felt.. wrong. 

Galvorn just seemed like someone who was trying to help, who developed mild feelings and was trying to do something about that. That didn't make him a threat. Revyn realized he perhaps wasn't the best judge of character, all things considered with Calixto, but he felt sure that perhaps there was some misunderstanding somewhere. His seer had to be wrong about this, or at least misguided. 

Galvorn could have left him to deal with the guard on his own when they first met. He could have refused to help with the ring. He could have left him to die. He didn't say any of that.

Llavrana insisted she was just trying to look after him; he really wanted to believe her. He's put his faith and trust in her since he could speak because she has always been there and always had their best interests in mind. Now was no different, because she's never been wrong before, even despite the uncertainty festering in him like a wound; he trusts her.

He trusts her.

Even as the smile she gave at his response made him feel unwell. He trusts her. He has to. He doesn't know what he'd do if he couldn't.

"I'm pleased," and it was as apparent as the coarseness of sand, relaxing back into her seat. "Then there is only one last thing to address before sending you on your way," and whatever hope he had that they were nearly finished, diminished. 

Revyn had hoped that this would have been forgotten somehow, because he couldn't think of a way to explain away the fact he had kissed someone, and he certainly dreaded discussing as much in front of present company. He mentally prepared himself for that specific indiscretion, discomforted by the comfortable way she was regarding him; her mouth brushing up into a warm encouraging smile as she said, "we will have to, of course, now that you're well, discuss the terms of your courtship."

Revyn had opened his mouth, some quick response somewhat prepared in a way to explain his actions when he stopped dead. His mouth clicked shut.

He blinked.

He must have misheard her.

"I'm sorry, Mistress, would you repeat that?" there was a confused laugh in his voice, but the wise-woman was ever pleased, reiterating clearly.

"Your courtship," stating the term with an air of finality, almost as if it didn't have the ability to have the dunmer's blood run cold. "I suppose I should be honoured to be the one to tell you, if your other half simply did not have the time to do so."

Revyn mouthed the word's ' _other half_ ', trailing off as a number of things clicked into place in rapid-fire.

Ambarys wishing to speak with him, the words trapped behind his mouth the entire recovery, the fact he was allowed with him _at all_ despite not being family, all seemed to slot together. They were in Greystone, they were under the ever-watchful eye of Llavrana here no matter what room they were in, her magic embued in the very stone here, which explained why they were ever left alone.

Why Llavrana forced him to reiterate he'd stayed abstinent; why Llavrana was quick to forbid his seeing of Galvorn; why Ambarys was here at all.

Ambarys invoked a courtship without his knowledge.

Revyn sunk into his seat, wishing it would simply swallow him up, staring blankly at nothing as Madame Llavrana began to speak.

xxx

It took well over an hour for the discussion to come to a close.

Arguably, much less a discussion as it was a lecture that Revyn absolutely could not force himself to participate in, unseeing and unhearing as he stared off at her shoulder, and his chest was filled with doubt.

He had begged Ambarys not to ever put him in this position, in the past. Had talked in perfect circles around him until the other agreed, and for a time, Revyn had truly believed that the barkeep respected him enough to wait. Respected him enough to not say a word and let it be and maybe one-day Revyn would have been amicable to it, but that day wasn't then, and instead, he had never felt so furious and betrayed in his life by someone he had trusted.

He didn't hear a word as whatever was said was finally over, and Revyn was filled with fury and disbelief and numbed by it as whatever happened, ended, and the others stood up and so he stood up alongside.

"You two can go ahead," Revyn heard Madame Llavrana say, though the demand was underlying, "I would like a moment alone with Revyn."

He tried not to come off visibly distraught at her request, thinking of home as the pair of them step towards the stairs where Taliesin was still waiting. Idesa glanced over her shoulder at Revyn, her expression unreadable, before she too slipped away.

Revyn stood standing, heavy and weightless, and simply not there. None of this felt real. He listened almost from outside of his body as their steps faded down the way, when the seer stepped forward, her hand outstretched towards him. Revyn took it, mostly out of instinct, and she carefully guided him up to her. 

"You look unwell," was what she said, and Revyn didn't even know what to say to that. He'd been rendered speechless, his tongue unwilling to work with him, and the things he wanted to say would only result in more trouble than it was worth. He just wanted to go home.

"I'm alright." was what he eventually settled with, and whether or not his seer believed him didn't seem to matter. 

"Ambarys Rendar will be a good match for you," she said after a deliberate moment, "he's a respectable mer. Speaking with him prior to your coming, not only has he kept his own virtue intact, he has been pining for you for a very long time."

Revyn bit down the bitter, 'yes I'm aware', and simply nodded.

Llavrana raised her hand up, pressing her palm to his cheek.

It was supposed to be a warm gesture, a privilege to have someone of this standing to lay their hands on you, but Revyn was struck by the immense certainty that she had made some mistake.

"You are unhappy." almost as though she did not understand why. "He was forced to lay a claim based off of worries he festered concerning your relationship with the outlander," she said, and Revyn felt a hot flash of anger as he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. "your unhappiness could have been avoided, Revyn. We all face the consequences of our actions. What is happening are simply the consequences of yours, as is the way of things."

So this was _his_ fault? Because Ambarys felt _threatened_ over - ? Over _what_? Him having a friend? Revyn breathed slowly, "With all due respect, do you truly believe a 'just' consequence for.. for seeking _friendship_ with someone new, is I lose my choices? They get taken from me, is that it?"

Llavrana seemed undeterred, upturning his head. "The consequence of recklessness is what did this to you." her voice was a bit quiet, controlled, "a consequence of caring for an unwanted outlander nearly cost you your life. If you are incapable of placing your safety above flimsy desires, then you revoke the right to have them. They are mine to do with until I see you fit to choose, and for that, I have chosen for Ambarys to espouse you, take care of you, since you have proven to me that you cannot be trusted to do so on your own anymore."

She looked his face over, and she must not have cared for whatever she saw. Upturning his chin. "He stayed by your bedside while you recovered, has been your faithful friend for many years, is a future with him so terrible? Are you so ungrateful for the time he has given you? Are you too special for the love and endearment of an adequate partner? Do you believe I am incapable of deciding what's best for you?"

He didn't know what to say.

"I am getting on in age, Revyn." she released her hold on him, stepping back as her hands clasped before her, "Would you deny me the opportunity to oversee your courtship, after I oversaw your parents? Your grandparents?" slipping back, she carefully lowered herself to her seat, Awen watching her carefully as if to step in if she needed any assistance. Llavrana waved her extended hand away. "Revyn, you are incredibly bright, and this is a union that would benefit you. You will go through with it, you will allow him to court you as necessary, and once it is all through, you will thank me." she gestured towards the stairway, dismissive, "It's always lovely to see you, and the next time I do I look forward to being updated on the state of your partnership. I shall see you again by the end of the week. Have a wonderful day."

Awen stepped up to escort Revyn from the chamber, who followed like a ghost behind.

Numbly he walked, his thoughts quiet and dead as they made it down to the first floor, where Awen opened up the front wordlessly and Revyn saw Idesa and Ambarys waiting for him upon his exit. They were clearly in the mix of a hushed argument, fury in the way Idesa was standing, hands balled up with a finger jammed against the other's chest as they both turned to look at him once he stepped out.

Nobody had a chance to say much of anything before Ambarys landed on the ground _hard._

Revyn's knuckles suffering a sharp pain, waving it off as a terrible mixture of rage and devastation choked him. He felt Idesa grab him, a laugh bubbling up his throat and there was such a surge of emotion looking down at him now as Ambarys groaned, hand covering his nose where blood began to seep out from under his fingers.

"You invoked a courtship," Revyn's voice dangerously low between inappropriate bursts of laughter. "you invoked a courtship when I was fucking _unconscious_."

Idesa flinched a bit; Revyn didn't often curse and it was jarring to hear it, though Ambarys seemed only mildly put off, pushing to stand with a disdainful snort. Revyn spit at his feet, watching in sardonic distaste as Ambarys wiped the blood from his nose, looking at the smear on the back of his hand. He sighed; the sound elongated, wry and tired.

"I don't feel guilty," Ambarys stated, tongue against teeth, "You've any idea how gratifying it is to get that sort'a validation from our seer? Her simply confirmin' everything I already knew? What it feels like to have somethin' suddenly in reach when it's been just out of it for so long? She came to me with a _chance_ , and you think I was gonna tell her no?"

"It wasn't hers to give-!"

"She's our _seer_ ," and Ambarys said it like it was outrageous for Revyn to say such a thing, "you heard her in there. She knows what's best for us. Know's what's best for you. You haven't been yourself, and she saw that."

Revyn's mouth worked around the word's ' _haven't been_ -' in bewilderment before snapping, "What are you even _talking_ about?"

The snarl suddenly reached Ambary's mouth, angry when he spat, "Oh, so being touched is alright if he does it, yeah? It's different if the _dragonborn_ does it, is that it?" and when Revyn clearly wasn't understanding, Ambarys stepped forward, his voice accusatory and low when he said, " _why_ did you let him kiss your hand?"

Revyn felt his stomach knot when something occurred to him; just the hand?

He frowned, wait.

"You- what? Were you _watching_ us?" and the set brow of the barkeep seemed to narrow, Revyn dragged his hands up to his face as a laugh bubbled up, "Oh by the nine you _were_!"

"I didn't _know_ him!" Ambarys argued, sweeping his hand in a wide angry gesture, "there was a serial killer on the loose, and-and there was suddenly someone _new_ around that you were gettin' friendly with and I had to make sure you were okay!"

"Don't try and justify your creepy behavior as if you did something noble!" he felt Idesa's hand tighten around his wrist and he hadn't realized he'd balled up his fist again, inhaling harsh and trying to relax but he was just seeing the edges of red in his vision and calming down was a chore. The look he gave Ambarys was withering, and the other momentarily faltered under it, seeming to straighten up as his hand returned to the blood pooling under his nose, averting his eyes.

"Let me see if I understand what I did wrong," his voice dripping in disdain, "I allowed my friend to tell me goodbye in whatever custom that is unique to his culture. I am being punished, for allowing a _friend_ , to say _goodbye_." Revyn knew that probably wasn't fully true, knew that what Galvorn had done was a bit intimate, but he supposes nobody other than a dunmer would have found it odd or noteworthy. "Betraying the trust of friends is well alright when they do something harmless that you don't agree with, is that right?"

"You went to dinner with him!" and he threw his hands up like it explained _anything_ and - "an' he's so touchy with you, and you just _let_ him- and he-he brought you to my doorstep and he looked like such a white knight and I-" Ambarys was faltering, pressing his mouth closed, sniffing wet as he used his sleeve to wipe away more blood, "He didn't earn the way you were jus'- jus' staring up at him like he was the moon, and I couldn't-"

"Oh, he didn't _earn_ it, but somehow _you_ have?" he spat, "in what world does someone who saved my life not earn admiration?"

"Did he save your life before the wake?" Ambarys shot back, "because you were all doe-eyed then too!"

"Like it matters!" Revyn yelled, "why are you _watching_ me all the time?"

Ambarys made a noise in annoyance rather than answering, and Revyn had enough of it and nearly left because he felt if he stayed much longer he couldn't be held accountable for what he does. Yet, stepping back caused the other to step forward with a hushed hiss; "I wasn't the _only_ one watching."

At Revyn's bewilderment, Ambary's voice dropped lower, "Our Mistress came to me because she noted weird behavior in the two of you at both the wake and when that outlander brought you to her. Told me it was necessary for me to make an honest mer out of you before you made a mess of yourself." he sniffed, "I've waited for you for decades, Revyn, I wasn't about to tell her no."

Revyn was too angry to unpack all of that, but something stuck out to him in all of this that he could not shake.

They don't know about the kiss in the cabin; the real one.

They didn't know.

Revyn had spent years believing she could simply see all that he didn't consider the possibility of her missing something. Maybe she wasn't looking, maybe he wasn't someplace she could see, maybe her reach isn't that far.

Maybe she's not as all-knowing as he thought.

It felt wrong to think, but the disgust and hatred and fury he felt manifesting in his chest at having his choices taken from him made it difficult to care. She decided something she believes was best for him, but it felt self-serving and cruel to him. Years of her insisting she's done things in their self interest, but how was this so terrible? They've befriended Outlanders before, why was Gal so dangerous? Why was she so threatened by him?

Revyn shook his head, replying bitter; "So I just forgive you and deal with it, is that right?" Ambarys rolled his eyes as though _Revyn_ was the one being dramatic, and it took Idesa's hand on his arm to ground him enough that he didn't just outright break his teeth in too. 

"That's exactly right," he huffed, "The Mistress didn't give you some death sentence, and I think you're bein' real ungrateful for her mercy."

"Her mercy?" he laughed breathily, humourless, "She already made it clear she was pleased I had been stabbed so that it was already a lesson learned! That didn't feel like mercy, that felt like-" it hurt. Her implying what she implied hurt. He shook his head, "Her _disappointment_ in me, her lack of faith, and revoking my right to the word no? All over having a companion who is kind to me, this feels..-" the word extreme was on his mouth but he stopped it from forming on his lips. There was fear in questioning her choices out loud, there was fear and there was powerlessness in the way of not knowing how to turn this around and get back out.

Courtships only end in cases of death, after the first year is up and the families are unwilling to continue negotiations, or in marriage. He would have to put up with this for at least a full year, and that isn't guaranteed, as the seer can simply overrule. 

Ambarys made a sound, "look, it don't matter anymore. You have to stop worryin' about him, 'cause you ain't allowed to see him anymore," and the anger Revyn felt at his tone was immense, which only worsened when coupled with the stark creeping feeling of helplessness and choicelessness he had in all of this. This wasn't right. "You'll get used to this," Ambarys continued, and Revyn felt Idesa tug him back, moving to the opposite road away from his shop, and Ambarys watched them begin to go before turning the opposite way towards his store, shouting over his shoulder "fine, be mad about it. You know where to find me when you're ready to talk."

Revyn bit down a scathing reply and simply numbly followed his sisters lead who led him down the further alleys he didn't often travel.

These roads took them towards the Palace of Kings, though they didn't travel so far, the streets dark and unlit as the sun was nearly set, the lamps untouched in years and padded in locks none of the dunmer had the keys to try and light themselves. There were a row of old buildings, many with a mix of stone and thin iron stairs that lead to separate flats attached to one another, and they approached the one leading to Idesa's; she lived on the upper floor of a two-story complex, but instead of going up the stairs she stopped them both at the base, looking over towards where they came from for a long moment until she seemed positive about something.

There was tension in her body that rolled off in agitated waves, pulling him into a hard and sudden hug; Revyn instinctually wrapped his arms around her, still upset, but more confused now as she raised her chin, mouth by his ear, her voice a quake of muted anger that hissed out in a sharp whisper.

" _Tell him I said 'hi' would you?_ " before kissing his cheek and slipping up the shaky stairs of her home, leaving Revyn at the bottom. 

Revyn watched her go a long moment, realizing a bit stunned what was happening; he shoved his hands into his pockets, briefly glancing behind towards the alley they came from, before turning on his heel and vanishing beyond the opposite way. The last sound of him in the Grey Quarter being the scrape of his heel against the cobblestone, and he was gone before her door even clicked shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do want to say that me making the point that Galvorn has basic human decency (or whatever the elder scrolls equivalent is) and that being a big deal to Revyn had me mildly fucked up because I realized that ah, god I've not written many folks around him having even that. I put the bar on the floor and now I'm gonna make him pick it up. (that and let's reach the "Window of tolerance" that Revyn had and go pass it.)
> 
> I wasn't originally going to have a whole lot for Revyn to overcome and in the grand scheme of things, that's still true, but I ended up putting so much of it within a few chapters of each and I am VERY sorry about that - certain things lined up too well by accident that I just didn't see the point in dedicating chapter's later for something we can begin with now. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A bit of a shorter chapter!! Otherwise, it'd be a mile long because next chapter is a hefty one. I also wanted to super thank everyone for their lovely comments!!! I didn't expect this particular exploit in self-indulgence to be all that interesting to anyone, and it means so much to see literally anyone invested into where this is going. Thank you all so SO much for your feedback and comments, I literally love them so much :'^))) Thank you all so very much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!!

A storm was brewing in the dusk.

Dark clouds swirling above head, the sky deep shades of grey and red alongside the ever setting sun, and Revyn bitterly felt it a reflection of everything inside of him. The drop in temperature and sharp winds against exposed skin, shivering and angry as he moved through the low streets along the Stormcloak encampments, as he let his feet thoughtlessly lead the way. Revyn's agitation was tangible, and his trek was one of the scarce few times he had been entirely left alone when walking between soldier lines; filled with so much pent up energy and the festering of it in his stomach made him nauseous with disgust and fury. He walked brisk, unseeing of his surroundings, knowing he had to go but not where he was going.

The absolute _nerve_ of Ambarys.

The _confidence_ of him; the _audacity!_

Where does he _get it?_ Revyn thought in his outrage because he would just _love_ to be able to exist in whatever bubble Ambarys seemed to fester in.

How had everything he had carefully constructed in concern of his life and his path, collapse so effortlessly? A gentle wind having brushed alongside his foundation and caused his whole world to crumble at his feet as though it were made of playing cards and not the iron he once thought he'd welded.

Revyn clung to his outrage, clung to his bewilderment because the scarce moments he let them slip, there was an abyss of hopelessness that continued to claw its way up his chest into his throat and he was doing everything in his power to swallow. Rising like bile he had to choke down because he didn't know if he'd be able to continue on if he loosened his grip.

He kept reaching for where the gash had been, fingers seeking out the line under the layers of his clothing as if he'd somehow be able to feel it. He was struck by how little his life actually meant, how little he had done, and the sort of things that he allowed to just happen as he sat back and did nothing.

Revyn had allowed Llavrana to take the reigns on his life before he even knew how to speak, allowed her to shape, and mold his very life based on the principles of his parents and their parents before them, and so on. He practiced fervently, he dedicated every action and waking breath in their image, and gave up and feared change because it would mean ostracization and loss. He had been so _careful_. Revyn had been _so_ careful.

Somehow none of everything he had given mattered. Somehow none of the decades of doing the right thing by their eyes had meant anything in the face of a mistake; in the resulting aftermath of a lapse of judgment, the punishment was so much worse than the perceived crime and he was absolutely reeling.

It wasn't fair.

 _Fuck them,_ it wasn't _fair_.

 _Decades_ of his life wasted for nothing. Decades of giving and giving and _giving_ and taking nothing in return because he just wanted to live quietly and he wasn't allowed that. There had been no verbal warning, no talking to, nothing; he wasn't given a chance to explain himself or a chance to reason, he was just punished and Revyn had never felt so small in his life. Revyn clenched his jaw, fighting the tears as they threatened to come. He didn't know what to do.

He didn't even know where he was, blinking a bit confused as he took in his surroundings with a sniff, brushing the downfall off of his arms. Revyn noted, disheartened and tired, that he was well outside of the city gates. 

What was he even doing? Revyn did not stop walking, pulling the coat a bit tighter around his shoulders, wanting to bury himself and disappear as he sucked in deep breaths of crisp air. It didn't smell so much like industrial smog out here, less like moss and more like the sea foam that pooled against the coast. 

His steps didn't slow until he was well past the stables; snow coming down in thick clumps and the sky darkened by the approaching night, and he just didn't know at all what he was doing nor what he was accomplishing by doing it. He knew, at the very least, where he was headed, and a bitter part of him wasn't entirely convinced he was seeking out this individual for entirely good reasons.

Revyn blinked, his steps feeling less purposeful the more he traveled on. Was he truly only going to see Galvorn out of spite? Is that really all this was? Revyn turned his eyes to the coast, hands buried deep in his coat pockets with his shoulders drawn up as a sharp gust of wind came barrelling from the sea. There was some understanding in him that there was spite, yes, but- but he had wanted to seek him out when he was recovering beforehand. He had all these plans and scenarios he had built up in his head as a way to show thanks for what the dragonborn had done for him; all these silly little whimsies of gratitude that were embarrassingly self-indulgent, but they were certainly there, and were very real pulls that dragged his mind towards his cabin in the bitter woodlands.

All of which, of course, had been thrown out into Oblivion as soon as Llavrana forbid him from seeking him out. His worries darkened again, his steps growing sure for only another moment, filled with a clarity of forgoing her desires as she as forgone his own, before doubt returned as he was struck with the realization that he wasn't certain if Galvorn was even home.

Revyn pressed his lips together, figuring that if he simply wasn't home then he would just turn around. No harm in trying, he supposed.

He passed Hollyfrost Farm, seeing the lanterns burning in the windows as he walked past; maybe Galvorn doesn't actually want to see him. What if Galvorn would view him showing up uninvited as unwelcome and intrusive? Revyn wasn't sure if he was being presumptuous about whether or not his presence was even welcome or wanted, and considering his behaviour in the past, was it truly that outrageous to think Galvorn might be uncomfortable?

Revyn tried to reassure himself that it's probably fine, considering Galvorn had made an effort to check in so often. Clearly, he cared at least a little bit about Revyn's well being and..-

And what if it was just out of moral obligation?

He thought about his own comments back in Greystone; about how Galvorn was a do-good-recklessly sort, and how saving Revyn's life had just been another mark on the checklist of nice, and nothing more. Had he been too far off the mark with that one?

What was he even doing out here?

He trailed his eyes along the ever stretching winding road ahead, his steps slow enough he was almost dragging his feet as he turned to look back at the city just beyond the water. He didn't really want to be a burden, he didn't really want to be another issue Galvorn would feel obligated to solve like everything else laid at his feet.

He doesn't really know what he'd do if Galvorn turned him away. 

Revyn felt so lost and hurt, and there was so much of him seeking out that feeling of warmth that Galvorn carried with him; so much of him seeking out something that was anything other than whatever reality awaited him at home. He continued walking forward because he needed to try, and if this path led to disappointment, then he would - he would..- he didn't really have a plan for that, in the same fashion that he did not have a plan for how he was going to deal with anything at the moment. He didn't have much of anything grounding him, and he just didn't know what else to do.

Galvorn made him feel safe, and he needed to feel that again so badly. Needed whatever it was about the dragonborn that made going through the horrific day-to-day so easy for him.

Revyn was by no means certain what he was going to say or do once he got there, seeing now the hidden little path that led towards Galvorn's cabin, because he had nothing he wanted to say, no reason he could justify; maybe he could simply say hello and..- and leave? Would seeing him be enough? He didn't want to regale his woes and burden him with it, but coming by with a lack of purpose felt strange; was he really here out of spite? Because it didn't really feel like spite as he led his feet onward, continuing up the path as his nervousness rose.

It wasn't a particularly long stretch, but it felt like an eternity as he carefully traversed the narrow path. It was, however, that faraway sound of a grunt and wood splitting as he neared the end of the brush, that had Revyn very suddenly feeling as though coming up at all was a mistake.

They had only known one another in such a brief time comparatively, what was he even thinking? He should turn around and go home. Suck it up, face the consequence, and deal with it.

Revyn glanced behind himself at the trail he had already tread, and the moment he did he felt an intense wave of grief hit him that immobilized him from walking back. He heard another grunt, and the undertones of it were familiar and he- he could at least see him. All he had to do was peek around the brush, and just- just look. Maybe that will be enough and he won't have to bother him and he can just-

A tired but shaky exhale escaped him; that felt a little bit too creepy for his taste. Revyn swallowed thickly, his fingers burying against the lapels of the coat as he glanced back towards the direction of the cabin. He already came all this way, he might as well finish what he started. Steeling himself, he slowly dragged himself the remainder of the path, looking past the narrow brush where the cabin finally came into sight.

The snow was coming down hard, framing the area in a fog of white as he carefully moved a bit of branches away, peeking over as he caught sight of movement just towards the base of the cliff that hung over the home here. Just to the right of the cabin was a closed shed, and before it a yard or so was the working body of familiar tall frame with his back facing his way, an axe overhead before another grunt followed, where he noted the fall of two chopped blocks of wood hitting the snow. He gathered them in a practiced swoop, dropping them off to a nearby pile where he grabbed one of the last few remaining logs, prepping them while Revyn noted rapid movement in the snow not too far away.

Four grey legs kicking and tail wagging as heavy snow fell, hearing the excited yips and barks as a hound wiggled in the freshly fallen snow, snapping its maw at the heavier flakes falling, only to get up to run in circles before dropping on its back to wriggle and kick all over again. Revyn could see some white bandages around one of its front legs, and a few wrapped around its middle, as he stepped only a fraction away from the brush to get a better look when its ears perked up.

There was a moment where Revyn half wondered when Galvorn would have gotten a dog or how he hadn't noticed the hound previously, as it rolled on all fours and seemed to notice someone's approach. It stood alert, despite its tail still wagging, when it barked. Howling twice as Galvorn seemed to glance at the beast, turning to look over his shoulder at who was approaching, and Revyn wanted to leave immediately when he seemed to visibly pause.

There was an uncomfortable moment of feeling as though he had made some mistake, a sharp gust of wind bringing down a dark fog of snow like a cataclysm between them, and he didn't know what to say or do as Galvorn wordlessly slammed the axe against the chopping block and began approaching.

Revyn felt a bit frozen to the spot, watching in stark uncertainty as the other moved quickly, words bubbling forward in some half attempt to try and explain himself;

"I'm sorry for intruding," and his mouth felt dry and he wasn't sure if he could be heard over the wind, his voice sounding small and he hated how quiet it all tumbled out, "It was impulsive and I don't even really know why I'm here, I'm-"

Revyn almost shrunk back when Galvorn was a foot away before a hand snagged his shoulder and pulled him forward abruptly, stumbling before his body slammed painlessly against the front of the bosmer as..- as two arms wrapped around him. 

His thoughts went quiet as he processed what was happening, encompassed by a mass of wood elf that cut away the sting of the biting wind, his cheek pressed against armoured chest; when he breathed in, embarrassed immediately by how shaky and short it came in, he was greeted with familiar warm pine, turning his head to follow the smell of ash and burnt firewood where his arms finally reached forward and wrapped around him too.

Galvorn did not let go for a very long moment, and when Revyn felt the pressure of the lower half of the bosmer's masked face press against the top of his head, he nearly broke.

His fingers dug between the moving pieces of the others armour where joints connect, where the wood elf had his arms wrapped around the other's shoulders so tightly, and Revyn clung to him as though his life depended on it. So much of these past few weeks caught up to the dunmer in a sharp wave, crashing against him as he swallowed down his feelings and tried so hard not to make a mess of himself. It was just so _hard_. Hard because Galvorn made him feel so unafraid and secure, and for a good long while, he felt grounded.

Galvorn had his mouth against his hair, his voice muffled and low against him as he spoke.

"I'm so glad you're okay," and Galvorn sounded like he _meant_ it too. He didn't sound angry, he didn't sound disappointed or annoyed; he sounded _relieved_. Revyn let his eyes close, squeezing them shut hard to keep the tears at bay. Galvorn squeezed one last time, parting only a fraction much to Revyn's dismay but he didn't go far, "You didn't have to walk all the way out here, I would have come to you as soon as I was back in town tomorrow," and Revyn hated how much he had missed the sound of his voice, warmed by the sudden sound of the other's chuckle, sounding almost shaky himself though Revyn blamed the cold, "though I'm so pleased that you did."

He hadn't forgotten the sound of the other's voice from when he had been carrying the dunmer as he had been bleeding out; that mixture of fear and encouragement, and he wanted to replace that echo so much.

Revyn pointedly did not drop his hands either, ignoring every learned instinct with fervor.

"I have you to thank for that," and his voice wavered but he smiled, swallowing down the surge of emotion he felt and struggled to maintain. Its been a fully emotionally exhausting day and he was feeling frayed. He didn't doubt it showed on his face, and it's fully possible that Galvorn was too polite to point it out. "Uhm," he sniffed, "No I uhm, I recovered well, thank you. Nothing more than a scar. Your quick thinking saved me, and I'm extremely grateful for it."

"I'm just happy to see you walking around after all that," and he sounded like it, the hand on Revyn's shoulder squeezing a fraction, "I also wanted to apologize, for not seeing you while you recovered. I wasn't allowed to enter and.. well, uhm." Galvorn seemed to pause, and there was something a bit awkward in his tone before continuing with, "I wasn't fully sure if my being there would be.. fully welcome by you. I didn't want to intrude any further than I have at the door, and wanted you to focus on healing."

Revyn could almost laugh, but he didn't. He would have been a great deal more pleasant company than a few unmentionables, as Revyn shook his head a fraction, "I actually would have welcomed your company." he paused, "I do apologize if they had been rude to you. My.. seer is strict. Outlanders having access to greystone is almost always prohibited," before looking up, a bit earnest, "and I'm sorry that.. that our last conversation made you feel-"

"Whoa, no, that's not on you," Galvorn cut in quickly, "Please don't apologize by placing boundaries, they're yours to place. I'm-" he stopped a long moment, before Revyn heard a soft laugh, "I'm just glad you're okay, and to hear it's only a scar." Revyn was able to manage a smile at that, watching the slow tilt of the others head who then continued with, "I'm happy you decided to stop by. Would you like to come in? I'm pretty much finished out here, and I _do_ have a kettle prepped if you would want something warm to drink. It's rather cold out, and I've got all sorts of things I'd love to hear from you and tell you about."

Revyn felt the typical responses of denial on his mouth, end the conversation early, leave - he did none of that. He fought with his instinct to stop because it wasn't what he wanted, before slowly nodding. "If it's no trouble?"

It was the exact right thing to say based on how pleased Galvorn sounded, "Goodness, not at all. I'll heat it up-"

Revyn jolted a bit, feeling something cold and wet press under his coat and against his hip. He looked down at the hound that had bounded up as they were talking, which snorted, tail still wagging as it seemed to sniff along the trim of the coat. Exhaling, he pressed his hand between the beast's ears, petting for only a moment before it lifted its head, nudging the palm of his hand against its nose, sniffing.

"Hello there," he hummed, and its tail wagged hard, pounding the snow around it excitably when Revyn addressed it, "and who might you be?"

"This is Meeko," Galvorn dropped his hand to scratch just between the hound's shoulder blades, "my second in command, and loyal little ally. He's traveled with me for some time."

Revyn brushed down some of the haggled fur, "Not a new addition?"

Galvorn chuckled, "No, just a hurt one." he made a soft gesture towards the cabin. "He's been recovering a few broken bones after he tried to help in a dragon fight. Sleeps through most of the day, but he's been slowly getting back to normal these past few weeks."

Revyn raised his brow, "A _dragon_ fight?"

Galvorn gave a good hard scratch against his shoulders that had Meeko wiggling his backside, tongue lobbed out, "You'll never meet a creature more confident than a dog," he chuckled, before patting Meeko's head, who pressed his nose and continued to sniff at Revyn's coat. The bosmer let his arm fall back to his side, "He was in my room sleeping when you were here last. I had him on some sedative herbs as his leg was acting up, so he was out for the night." Revyn ' _hm_ 'd as Galvorn stepped to the side, looking to the clouds to gauge whether or not if the sun was still somewhat in the sky before doing a sharp whistle in a span of three. The dunmer watched in interest as Meeko's ears perked up once again, before darting off towards the cabin, where the bosmer began to lead them off to follow.

Galvorn stopped only a moment to the chopping block, quickly gathering the wood under his arm as Revyn shifted on his feet a bit behind. More snow drifted, and Revyn curiously noted the high concentration of it beginning to grow around them.

"Storms coming," he commented, to which the wood elf glanced over his shoulder before looking up.

"Bad one at that," the bosmer agreed, "we should hurry in."

"Maybe I should head home," Revyn replied, looking to the darkened clouds brewing over the sea, "I'd hate to intrude if it hits and I overstay my welcome."

Revyn dropped his eyes back to Galvorn who was standing straight again, chopped wood under his arm who seemed amused, "you could never intrude on me, and I don't much think you could overstay your welcome either. I'd rather you not get caught in the middle of this storm, personally." He stepped forward, making a soft motion with his head towards the door, his voice almost quieted by the rush of a sharp wind that was stirring up the fallen snow around them, "If it's any temptation, I have teas from several corners of the world and a warm place to try them."

Whatever agitation and anger that had been festering in Revyn stomach, was muted when Galvorn coaxed a warm laugh out of him, smiling.

"Well, alright," he sighed, feigning burden, "but only because you're insisting, and it's-" he looked up towards the sky again, mildly disquieted, "it's cold." with a sniff he nodded, "Lead the way."

"Right this way," and the sound of Galvorn's voice was so pleasing when he sounded so pleased himself, approaching the cabin side by side where Meeko was waiting patiently by the door. Grabbing the knob and pushing it open, allowing Revyn to pass through first as Meeko darted inside beside, following along as he let the door click shut behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Galvorn's toxic trait?? wanting to be a good person
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!! Hopefully these next few bits will make up for the sudden and abrupt shit show that became of Revyn's life in recent chapters. I hope you enjoyed!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry this chapter took a little while longer than usual to get out; this past weekend ended up being a lot busier than I had intended it to be so I didn't get much finished on this front, so thank you for your patience! I'm trying to at least get one a week out if not more, but I'd much rather the chapters be of good quality rather than busting them out before they're ready. (this is also a longer chapter and I do apologize for any typos!! It's harder to catch when there is so much to work through.) 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope this was worth the wait and I hope you enjoy!

The temperature change was immediate, stepping inside where a faint cold rush of wind that trailed in after them, was met with a warm wall of heat as the fireplace crackled and burned.

Meeko trotted ahead, nails scratching against the wooden floorboards as he flopped down before the fire, side pressed against the warm stone surrounding it. Galvorn made quick work of removing his snow-packed boots as soon as the door was closed behind them, trying not to trail in puddles to which Revyn followed his lead. Taking the moment, with his hand pressed against the wall as his other fumbled with his straps, to glance about the room, noting with a vacant dawning how different everything looked.

Different in the way that it was clear Galvorn had not been much expecting company, as whatever clutter he had cleaned up and put away previously was free to exist on whatever surface it touched. Revyn realized with some fondness, that the bosmer had put in effort picking up, when Revyn first came by; especially now, seeing the tall stacks of books half removed from their shelves, with a great many opened and spread over his main table. Scrolls with paperweights stacked on top of each other, a few ink spills, and writing he couldn't fully make out from where he stood.

He noticed the weapons next; most of which were leaned up against the table or propped along walls. There was a seat pulled out closer to the fireplace, where a jar of oil and a strap of leather sat, clearly having begun the process of cleaning a half polished great axe, and Revyn found it funny as it was charming. It added a layer to the dragonborn he wasn't anticipating, and he couldn't help but wonder what all of this said about him; what these snippets into the other's life implied, and what sort of person he was privately, as compared to what he put on display for others to see.

The floors themselves were clean; with no cobwebs, or gross spills on the rugs. Noting the small stack of furs and leathers piled mostly neat on a barrel against the wall, set against the corner that led down the short hall towards the bedroom. None of these doors were ever shut, though curtains were drawn closed, and lanterns all comfortably lit, where the room smelled of burned oak and dusty tomes, and he felt the frayed edges of his nerves settle, if only for a little while.

Galvorn, now shoeless, sauntered further into the cabin, dropping off the stack of chopped wood by the fireplace, making a clean pile up against the stone. Revyn dropped his own boots on the floor besides, feeling only a little guilty at the puddle it was creating, but supposed it could only be so bad considering Galvorn's were doing much the same. He didn't pull off his coat, stepping further into the room as the other tended to the fire, and Revyn went to take a seat on the open bench close by.

Not a lot of space was available, as he carefully grabbed a few smaller tomes from the seat and placed them up, not really wanting to disturb what system of messy organization his friend may have. He heard Galvorn chuckle from behind him, glancing over his shoulder as the other seemed to straighten up, fingers slipping under the mask and pulling it free from his face.

Revyn stilled from what he was doing.

"Sorry about the mess," Galvorn smiled, all faint teeth and dimpled, and his cheeks were a little pink from the cold with his hair a loose mess in the knot it was in, the bosmer dropping the mask on a nearby stack of books. He pulled off his gloves, dropping them as well before his fingers brushed through what they could; his hair looking soft and fairly clean as he undid the ribbon hidden under the wrapped up mass in one smooth practiced motion, but caught the roots before his hair went completely undone. "I get distracted between projects and forget to put things away. If I had known you were coming I would have cleaned up."

Revyn was hovered over the bench, books in hands and distracted by how smoothly Galvorn had fixed up his hair before remembering himself; clearing his throat he grabbed the remaining tomes, placing them on the table with a bit more force than intended. Galvorn moved around him as he did so, gathering a small collection of thinner metal staffs, and carried them to the fireplace.

"I don't mind it," Revyn responded, looking over the book he'd just set down, noticing the strange inscriptions, but none of these novels have yet been in a language he recognized. Picking up the remaining books in his way, briefly examining the bindings with a strange sense of unease he shook away; he cleared his throat, "it's lived in," he continued, glancing over his shoulder, "and I didn't exactly announce myself." bench finally cleared off, he wiped the excess dust from his hands against the front of his trousers before taking his seat. His back to the table and facing the firepit, feeling the heat seep past his clothing like an exhale as feeling began returning to parts of his body. The tips of his ears were freezing, as were his cheeks and hands, pulling the coat a little bit firmer around himself as he watched Galvorn smoothly set up of his once dismantled cooking spit.

It was a comfortable quiet, Galvorn gathering a few things as he prepped his kettle and set it to boil, before finally grabbing the coat off of his shoulders when he looked at Revyn as though to say something, before his eyes fell back to the coat as if noticing it for the first time. He paused with his arms half out of his coat sleeves, before continuing with a faint smile, "You're still wearing the coat."

Revyn didn't try pulling it off, quirking a brow up at the bosmer as the other took off his heavier layers. "It's warm." he responded as though it explained everything, hearing Galvorn hum as he stepped back to his closet, hands moving to the thicker straps connected to his armour. Revyn glanced back down at the fur, fingers running over the soft tuffs tucked inside, pressing his lips together. He was here for a reason, Revyn reminded himself, he was - _interested_ in the wood elf, and he had to make that known. Somehow.

Really, at all, in any way.

Revyn wasn't entirely certain what his end goal was, other than he was trying to prove to himself that he was in control of his actions and decisions, and Llavrana did not have a say in the matter. Trying to gather his autonomy and choices and make them his own again; where, on the long list of grievances he had with what happened today, at least this was an issue he could tackle and conquer. Ambarys was a problem for another day.

Today was Galvorn; today was figuring out how to reverse the damage he'd caused the week before to their relationship and get things on a track he can handle.

The plan, as it stood, was; flirt.

It was a short list but it was doable.

Revyn kept his eyes on the other as he moved, watching as deft fingers undid the clasps of his cloak and untucked a string by his collar; somewhere in the back of his thoughts his list grew and added ' _kiss him again_ ' towards the bottom with a few blank spaces between to leave room for perhaps a better plan on how to get there, but it was a start. Besides, Revyn is well aware he's got decent charisma. He's a proud wordsmith, with language and its clever applications are not something he struggles with, despite being so fully unpracticed in this area. Flirting cannot be much harder than talking up reluctant customers and having nervous patrons feel at ease; he can do this, he just has to trust himself and exude confidence. He can do that. Galvorn was just like any other person he's talked in perfect circles around. He can be charmed like anyone else.

The issue was however that Galvorn wasn't _anyone_ else. It actually mattered if he didn't do this right.

There was a yearning in his chest that spread and festered in his belly; he felt nervous.

"I haven't had it long and I've already damaged it," he tried to keep his voice light, minor, and apologetic. Galvorn looked at him again, his expression open, and Revyn felt his words fumble a bit, catching them quickly when he said, "doesn't smell much like anything, anymore."

Hm. Wordsmith indeed.

"Oh?" he responded with humour, as Galvorn worked on undoing the remainder of his leather straps, removing gauntlet and chest plate alike. Dark blue poked through as the armour slipped away, where he had on a simple warm outfit that was fortunately saved from getting soaked from the snow. The bosmer gathered each piece of the set, checking them briefly as he spoke, glancing back to the dunmer between, "Is that good or bad?"

"I haven't decided," Revyn hummed, rather lackluster and hoping his comment appeared less weird as a result, but it was difficult to say. Galvorn seemed unperturbed, which was a relief, as he watched mildly amused as the wood elf half attempted to cleanly pile the armour onto something in the closet; much of his movement obscured before stepping out, one hand brushing down the front of his shirt and seemingly pleased by the overall lack of dirt.

He looked ready to respond when he noticed a shiver; Revyn glancing a bit towards the fire with flushed cheeks as heat was still slowly returning.

"If you're still cold I can give you something else to wear, let the coat dry, if you'd like?" he offered, and Revyn felt the refusal on his tongue born out of social politeness until their eyes met, and he was reminded he was trying to pursue this. He kept trying to shove his inherent cultural reservations about this off the table, but they kept trying to climb back on and tell him what he can and cannot do; he smothered his thoughts.

Revyn ran his palms a bit over the shoulders, and arguably, it _was_ a bit wet and chilly, the cold seeping into the fur.

"Only if you don't mind me returning it just as damaged," Revyn joked, to which Galvorn scrunched his nose.

"Well, it will at least help me clean out my closet," he replied, leaning back into his front entryway closet, pushing a few things around as he grabbed something a little further back. Revyn pushed to stand, shrugging the coat off almost mournfully; while he was thankful that the fireplace was fighting off the chill, his body heat hadn't quite returned to normal, stepping up to the bosmer to hand it over. Gal accepted it readily, passing off a somewhat thinner jacket, it's lining closer to cotton than fur.

"Should keep you warm while you're inside," as Galvorn examined the back of the coat returned with curious eyes, one hand in the closet with a hanger between his fingers. He slipped it on, mouth pressed together before returning his gaze to the dunmer. "Is that alright?"

"It's perfect, thank you," he pressed his thumbs along the collar, feeling the cotton and looking over the size as he turned back around to return to his seat. He didn't get very far; Galvorn grabbed his arm, abruptly stopping him in place.

Revyn looked over his shoulder, startled, but the dragonborn had his head turned and he was looking at Revyn's side in stunned bewilderment, brows furrowed as he released him, only to tug at the fabric of Revyn's shirt. He glanced down to see what he was looking at before realizing that, _oh_ , the bloodstain hadn't fully been removed from this article of clothing, and Revyn felt white-hot embarrassment as Galvorn frowned at it.

"I'm sorry," Revyn began, awkward and uncertain, as Galvorn upturned his eyes when he was addressed, though the look did not leave him, "I probably should have gone home and changed, showing up was.. impulsive on my end."

Galvorn didn't say anything at first, his eyes searching. "They didn't give you _anything_ else to wear?"

Uncomfortable, he didn't know what to say, "I- no? Should they have?"

Galvorn gave him a long look, like he was trying to figure something out before releasing the shirt altogether, his voice smoothing out, "Would you follow me for a moment?"

Revyn exhaled a little slow from his nose, nodding, "Well, alright."

The bosmer had his lips pressed together, clearly chewing on his words but saying none of them. He glanced over to the kettle still heating up in the fireplace, gesturing for the dunmer to follow. He led the way further to the right, heading towards the bedroom area where Meeko seemed to lift his head for just a moment, before settling back down onto his front paws, his tail thumping lightly against the warm stone of the fireplace. Galvorn pressed his hand briefly on the door, swinging gently open as he stepped inside. Revyn watched in interest as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, a spark emitting from his fingertips where he then leaned down towards a nearby lamp hanging on the wall. Galvorn unlatched the metal cap on the top, setting its oil to burn; it emitted a fine orange glow about the room, Revyn wordlessly stepping in behind.

Revyn hadn't seen the bedroom yet, trying not to be obvious he was looking around.

It wasn't large by any means, though the space was fair, and snug; there was a decent-sized bed pushed off to the far corner below a relatively small sealed window, a dresser and bookshelf pushed against the opposite wall, both seemingly filled with items, baubles, trinkets, and books. Clothing most notably was neatly folded, as Galvorn pulled one drawer open and began sifting through it, Revyn stepping around a sizable pile of messy furs and a few knawed-at bones that indicated that this was probably where Meeko had been sleeping. A chest sat at the base of the bed, the clasp undone, and oddly enough, the only weapon in here Revyn noticed was a dark coloured bow that sat propped by the bedside; the covers a little bit of a mess but the clutter was strangely not so bad in here.

Revyn noticed the alchemy space just beyond the dresser, up against the right-hand corner of the room; different boxes and bags set up with a few shelves overhead that held ingredients in bowls that glowed, with hung dried leaves and herbs, but the space was well organized and clean compared to most spaces Revyn had seen thus far. Galvorn closed the drawer before moving onto the next, seeking something he wasn't saying, until he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, pulling something that was butterscotch yellow from its resting place, offering it to the dunmer.

"Here, try this." Revyn stepped forward, placing the jacket down on the chest to accept whatever it was, letting it fall open as Galvorn went on to say, "It might be a little big on you, and it's a bit threadbare, but I've had this for years and it's seen every corner of the world alongside me. Best part is, no blood."

Revyn made an amused little sound, though it was muted when he chuckled, "I'm going to have tried on your whole wardrobe if you keep this up."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Galvorn replied warmly, pushing the drawer closed as he did. "We should probably throw out your shirt, like your folks were supposed to when you came in." he added, an edge in his tone muted but difficult to miss, "The stitching is a bright red colour."

Revyn sniffed, pressing the fabric of the offered shirt between his fingers as he felt the cotton; Llavrana's disgust and disappointment in him still ringing in his head, sighing, "I don't fully believe their intent was to match if that's what you're getting at," clearing his throat, he raised the shirt in his hand in acknowledgment, "thank you for letting me borrow this."

That look returned to the bosmer's face, shifting as Revyn moved to change when he spoke up.

"I didn't want to say anything unless you did," and his voice was careful, and the concern was prevalent then, "I know the.. issues we discussed our previous time together had made you uncomfortable, and it's not my intent to corner you about something of that nature, but.." he trailed off a bit, clearly trying to pick his words with care, before breathing, "can we talk?"

Revyn felt the tension rise in his belly, in the very same way it did when he'd been informed that his seer desired a word with him. Felt inexplicably defensive and the suddenness of it jarred him. He's not sure where the anger came from, and he swallowed it down just as quickly as it came.

"If you mean to ask if you can speak freely, I am in no position to stop you." is what he said, and Galvorn seemed taken aback by his tone if the pinch between his brows had anything to say.

"You are in every position to stop me," and he sounded almost confused as he said it, "there's a weight to you that is heavier than normal. You've had this haze about you since you arrived and I get a feeling there's more wrong than just the recovery."

Revyn didn't want to bring up what happened today; didn't want to talk about the weight Galvorn possibly recognized in him as the dread that's made a home in his chest. Didn't want to talk about the courtship, didn't want to talk about what happened at Greystone pretty much at all; he just wanted to focus on things he can control, aspects he can tackle and deal with, and Galvorn is an obstacle that can be both of the aforementioned. At least in the way he meant and wanted.

"Well aren't you perceptive," and he meant to sound coy, but it only really came out deprecating. He winced a bit, backtracking, "I-" he pressed his mouth together, frowning. "I'm sorry, it's just..- you've seen me at some of my lowest points," too many, in fact, "there is this skittish, confused, weak, and uncomfortable version of myself that exists to you that just isn't who I am. I met you at such a strange time in my life and I'm embarrassed." wringing the collar of the shirt in his hands, "I'm ah, bothered. I don't mean to be short with you, or show up on your doorstep and behave like a terrible guest."

Galvorn's shoulders seemed to relax a fraction, and _gods_ his face was so open. Revyn watching a flash of conflicting emotions pass his face before settling on benign bewilderment when he began to speak.

"I don't think righting a wrong is a low point," he responded, and he stepped forward a little, head inclined. "I've watched you effortlessly talk your way out of situations as I've watched you talk your way into them. I'm still impressed by the magic you encouraged and nurtured at the wake, you were so-" his eyes flickered, looking for the right words as he breathlessly chuckled, "-breathtaking. The version of you that exists to me holds himself with honesty and grace, and I'm really taken by him."

Whatever defenses Revyn had once raised, lowered further, replaced with something softer. He pressed his lips together, "I don't think you can be stabbed gracefully."

Galvorn clearly didn't know if it was appropriate to laugh at that, but Revyn watched amused as he fought the chuckle before it came, clearing his throat. Revyn laughed under his breath, and Galvorn smiled faintly in turn.

"When I snuck around the corner and noticed what was happening, I watched you slam your knee against your attacker when you were in no shape to keep fighting," Revyn didn't understand how it was so easy for Galvorn to sound equal parts earnest and amazed when the dragonborn himself has experienced and perhaps done more amazing things multiple times a week. Surviving a stab wound is perhaps a common experience for him; or the more likely scenario is Galvorn has survived this long being aware of his surroundings enough to not even get stabbed to begin with, and yet -

Galvorn just seemed so unfeigned. Brushing some loose blonde hair behind his ear, as he spoke, and Revyn realized after a moment he wasn't hearing anything that's come out of his mouth. Blinking back to reality as the bosmer continued some train of thought with, "..- inappropriate to send you away with the clothing you were attacked in. You don't return soldiers back into the battlefield in damaged armour, and yet they sent you with yours."

Revyn really wished he had been listening, mouth parting as he tried to find some way to respond; "I wasn't wearing armour," is what he landed on, and was fortunate that he ended up on something that worked as Galvorn shook his head.

"It's shameful," and did Galvorn ever say anything lightly? He spoke with his full chest and with such conviction no matter the topic; in the way the dunmer himself was trying not to feel so hollow at the resoundings points being made. "It feels victimizing and cold to have returned these clothes to you in anything other than a satchel for you to deal with at your leisure."

Revyn sighed, "I don't disagree with you," he picked at the shirt in his hands a moment, not really sure what to say; for someone who prided himself on his speech, he was found at such a loss as of late. "It's a.. complicated situation, I've found myself in. It's a lot to say all at once. Is there any way I can convince you to address this later rather than sooner?"

Galvorn very clearly had so many things he wanted to say and ask, but he so kindly did none of that. Instead, he nodded, and let his shoulders drop. The concern was palpable about him, but he stopped.

"You owe me no such courtesy," is what he said, "you talk when or if you're ever ready. I don't mean to pry or push you, I'm just thankful you're okay."

It was.. an uncomfortable comparison, to think about. How much this stranger so quickly took to him, so enthusiastically seemed to care and has repeatedly respected when Revyn had told him no, told him to stop; he did it and didn't argue. Is there some threshold people reach? Is it one he's passed in relation to Ambarys? To his seer? Individuals he's known practically his entire life have never treated him with remotely this amount of understanding, and it felt incredibly strange to be experiencing it now.

It felt foolish, but he really wanted to reach up and grab Galvorn by the collar and kiss him. The feeling was sudden and out of nowhere, and Revyn forced himself to stay put. It felt lackluster to reward someone for basic decency for simply respecting his 'no', but that urge was there none the less; it was there and he was taking _mighty_ note of it.

Revyn, instead, smiled. Faint and simple. Yet, before Revyn could respond, there was a whistle beginning to rise in the other room.

Gal excused himself quickly and stepped out, their arms brushing as he passed and it caused a shiver to race up his spine; he watched the doorway a long moment, listening in as the whistle died down, before grabbing the underneath of his own shirt, pulling it off.

Revyn's emotions were this cluster of anger, affection, sadness, infatuation, and some arousal and he felt almost as threadbare as the shirt that'd been offered to him. He placed it down for the moment in hopes that maybe he could ground himself and reorganize these internal contradictions, which only seemed to worsen when he finally examined the shirt he had been wearing.

It was horrifically jarring how little care went into it; it left a terrible dark stain all down the back that he cannot believe he didn't notice earlier when he slipped it on. His thumb brushed over the stitches where the shirt had been cut; a bright red and neatly woven through.

Llavrana expressed her delight that he had faced direct and swift consequences as a result of his actions; it was no wonder she would want to leave a reminder like this.

Revyn folded the fabric, knowing it was unnecessary as it was only going to be thrown out, but habit was habit as he tucked the sleeves inward for it one last time. He placed it down on the end of the bed before picking up the yellow shirt that had been offered him, pulling it on without much ceremony. It was a dull faded yellow thing, its design simple and sleeves halfway down the arm, clearly well-loved considering how old it looked with all its patchy fading, but it felt and smelled clean, and was soft against his skin when he stuck his head through.

It wasn't outrageously large on him by any means, but it hung notably more than his typical garb, as he tucked the front of it in his belt a little to try and size it better. Revyn glanced around in hope of a mirror, worried he looked silly, but was unable to locate any when Galvorn stepped back into the room, two mugs in hand.

Revyn supposed it couldn't be so bad when Galvorn brightened up at the sight of him, offering one of the mugs forward that he accepted with a quiet thanks.

The dragonborn slipped around him, wordlessly snagging the old shirt and placing it in a basket by his beside, before taking a seat at the front edge of the bed, tucking one leg under him as he did so to which Revyn moved to follow. He looked into the content of his cup after he'd watched the bosmer take a sip. It smelled like mint and ginger, the steam rolling over his face as he pressed it to his mouth; it burned a little but it was by no means unbearable.

Everything felt so normal, at that moment. It didn't last long, but he clung to those fleeting feelings as he stared into the mug.

"You mind me asking how you're feeling?" Galvorn asked, and his voice stayed the same level of calm and private, making a small polite gesture to his side, "I did add some dried arnica to your cup. It's got a few painkiller qualities I use almost devoutly in my drinks, and figured you might still be in need of it."

Revyn chuckled, shoulders relaxing, "That was thoughtful, thank you," before taking another drink as the heat of it finally seemed to reach him, looking into the darkened water a moment. "I'm alright," he responded, glancing back up, "a great many events happened in rapid succession. I think I'm just.. processing it, more than anything."

"Being attacked is a scary experience, it'll take time to work through that," Galvorn had the base of the mug resting against his knee, and Revyn wondered if it burned. "You mind me askin' what you were doing out there so late?" he prompted, though his tone was by no means intrusive or accusatory, "I only ask because the market was closed, and there's a lot of conflict between what the guards think was happening and what I'm sure wasn't." he sniffed, mouth pressing together as if uncertain whether or not to elaborate, before continuing with, "the more I'm here the more I'm getting the distinct impression that the soldiers on duty are ridiculously sexually frustrated."

Revyn thought back to the numerous issues he's faced with the city guard and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Ah, that's.. unfortunate."

"I imagine being someplace where your options are limited and partners miles away can be.. difficult," Galvorn looked into his mug with a grimace, "I just think there are better places for it than a crime scene. Could be worse, as the generals I've spoken to don't talk like that and fortunately take their work seriously."

The dunmer shifted in his seat, thinking. "The... comments. Was it because they're aware that it happened to a dunmer?"

"No," Galvorn shook his head, looking him over, "nobody should be aware it was even you that it happened to, and there's only speculation. Most think it was a nord woman, if it helps any. Butcher only targeted women as far as the general public was aware, and it kept suspicion at bay for a bit. Your absence has been somewhat noticed, but Idesa is a very good liar and said you've needed a break and left to visit friends. I'd believe her too if I didn't know otherwise."

Revyn felt.. some relief at that. Drinking as he thought, before saying, "Outside of the obvious, does anyone else know?"

Galvorn seemed to consider something, saying "Well, I think that only other person I'm aware of to know, is the Court Mage. He gave me the tip of the Butcher's patterns and had a strong feeling about the moon cycles having something to do with it. It was.. unfortunate that I showed up as late as I did."

He regarded the dragonborn a long moment; was that guilt? Did he feel responsible somehow? 

"Regardless," he spoke lightly but there was a serious edge to his voice that was difficult to ignore, his eyes dropping to his mug before placing it on his nightstand, pushing aside a few loose arrows as he chuckled. "I had to ah, hand the Court Mage some journals I found. I made the mistake of not reading through all of them, and had to bribe a bit to prevent him from putting the transcripts in the public domain for cases like this, once it was all said and done."

Revyn raised a brow, interest piqued, "Bribe him? What was in those journals?"

Galvorn grimaced, scrunching his nose. "Calixto was a.. disturbed man." is all he said at first, eyes flickering faintly in thought, "He was.. he was careful. Detailed, descriptive. He enjoyed his... work, and he documented everything. I'm sure his journals will make good bases for furthering the studies of cases like him, but it feels sudden and soon to hand something like that over to be archived. Copied and placed in public records to be read at anyone's leisure and the.." he trailed off, frowning. He looked towards the dunmer again, quiet for a while before saying, "You're alive."

Revyn regarded him a bit curiously, nodding, "I am."

Galvorn nodded, short. "There were.. documented plans for you, in those journals. Vulgar ones I won't regale the details about because they were graphic and disturbing. None of them came to fruition, and.. I was certainly made aware of his feelings regarding myself as well, in relation to you."

Revyn tapped his finger against the mug, uncomfortable. "He.. uhm, he spoke quite a bit about needing my teeth," he said, not fully willing to touch that comment just yet in worry of what Calixto had inferred, if it was anything close to what he had implied to Revyn that night. "I'd rather not repeat all that was said to me for perhaps the same reasons you won't, but it just sounded as though he was collecting body parts that reminded him of his little sister."

"It's a complicated situation," Galvorn looked a bit off, "grief and trauma manifesting in a sad and lonely man. He wanted to play the gods and now has to justify his actions to them. Almost fitting."

They didn't say necromancy as they sat in quiet after that, Revyn drifting to unpleasant thoughts as moments from that night continued to replay in his head. He didn't feel afraid, as he had felt violated. Wanting to wash his hands of other people's damage, but it was hard. Hard to forget the smell of him, rancid like rot as his actions bled from his skin; the sound of him in his ear, some disgusting mixture of euphoria and arousal each time the dunmer had squirmed and tried to fight back, covered in some layer of resigned sadness as if there was truly no other way that things could have ended.

How horrific it was to realize how many times he had nearly been killed, before something repeatedly stopped the Imperial's hand.

Revyn wasn't blind to the fact that quite a few of those instances had been an unknowing dragonborn.

"I'm glad he's dead," he said, pulling the mug to his mouth, "no more needless death, with far less weird comments about my teeth."

Galvorn chuckled a bit, stretching his arms back behind him, leaning on his palms as he relaxed. Revyn discreetly eyed the way the bosmer's hips shifted, catching himself as they flickered to the front of the other's trousers before averting, startled, and abruptly annoyed with himself. He doesn't think Galvorn noticed, but he cleared his throat regardless and asked; "What happened to the journals?" subject changes allowing him a moment to think, "the ones that you didn't want to be documented?"

Galvorn hummed, responding simply with "I took them."

Revyn quirked an eye at him, "He let you leave with evidence?"

Galvorn snorted, "Oh goodness no. He just thinks he misplaced them."

"You _stole_ from the Court Mage?" Revyn looked at him wildly, "I thought you said you _bribed_ him?"

"I did," Galvorn chuckled, "and on the _record_ , they were misplaced. On his word."

Revyn looked at him a long time, uncomprehending until he said, "You didn't have to do that for me."

"I wanted to," he responded in kind, "what happened to you is your business and your business alone. The explicit details of what happened to the other victims of the Butcher shouldn't be some fun little note in the margins of Windhelm that anyone can access and read. Yours especially, because you are still alive to have to deal with the aftermath."

The sort of warmth Revyn felt then had nothing to do with the tea; it felt ridiculously unreal that Galvorn was a real person. The rising need to lean over and kiss him returned, the feeling more intense than it had been several minutes ago, and swallowing it once again was difficult. 

"You never did answer my question," and Galvorn has a lopsided smile and he was regarding him a bit funny; Revyn was certain some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, and he tried to play it off best he could.

"I'm sorry, I was enjoying listening to you talk," and he was greeted with a pleasant chuckle in response, "What was the question again?"

"I'd asked what you were doing out there so late?" Galvorn brushed a loose hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear absently. Revyn watched the movement with no small amount of interest, before his eyes trailed to the mug sitting on the nightstand.

Wouldn't Calixto have documented he'd left a note? Revyn glanced back over to the bosmer; did he just want to know what it said? Did Gal just want to hear him say it? ' _oh there was a possibility you were still flirting with me and I really have no self-control when it comes to you and I needed to see your face again, because seeing you makes me feel so happy for no reason. you know how it is, don't you? got all these silly little feelings for you, and I want you, and want to be around you, but ah! got stabbed instead. just how things are these days, what can you do._ '

He didn't want to lie, but by Almalexia, mother of _mercy_ , he didn't want to be honest either.

It was so difficult to force himself to find what was appropriate to say; between how many years he's spent conditioning himself to pretend he couldn't be bothered with other people, only to be faced with someone that gets him _extremely_ bothered, and being completely uncertain how to proceed. Feeling the tugs of the chains he's had wrapped around his chest for years insisting he shouldn't try at all.

He can't have this. He can't, he-

Revyn inhaled quietly, and Galvorn sat there, patiently quiet alongside him.

Why was it so hard for him to speak, whenever Galvorn was so close? Why were words so evasive and never enough? A wordsmith rendered wordless, as language felt insufficient to describe what he wanted and how badly he wanted it; afraid of coming off too intensely, too desperate.

Facing Llavrana had been hard; it had been uncomfortable and terrifying and Revyn had not fully calmed from their exchange.

So why did facing Galvorn now feel so much harder?

Revyn had spent so many long uncomfortable years hiding and swallowing down any errant emotion that was anything further than platonic, and so much of it was for the sake of keeping up appearances and following orders to prevent anything from happening to him. It felt natural to keep these filthy things to himself, felt inherent to him as breath and body, and yet so unnatural now with how much it no longer fit.

Llavrana had sat across from him and accused him of a crime she believed he was going to commit, and he was punished to keep it from happening.

Rage and bewilderment continued to fester, but it all felt so pointless now.

He had rejected and put aside the things he wanted for her sake, for _decades_ , and none of that had mattered. So, as she had gone against his wishes, he was going against hers; he wasted so much time already, wasted so much effort and dedication to a cause that cares so little about him, but Galvorn seemed to care. If Llavrana felt threatened by the dragonborns influence, so much so that she reacted in unjust swiftness, then Revyn was going to prove her right. She feared for his virtue and virginity so much she gifted it hand wrapped to someone undeserving of it, so he was taking it back to try and give it to the very person she had forbidden it from.

She doesn't get to take this from him, it wasn't her's to give in the first place.

He'd clung to it for too long for her to rob him of such a private and personal experience, and he focused on not feeling afraid of the repercussions; he'd already pointedly ignored her restriction of seeing Galvorn again, so what difference would the consequence make between two sets of disobedience?

How much worse could his life get at this point? How much more could truly be robbed of him?

There was still fear there, but there was want too, and he leaned into that as much as he could.

Want and nervousness towards an unknown, as he recalled his quiet company, and the reason he had gone this far to begin with. How did this work in his stories? He dragged his thumb along the lip of his mug. Usually the romantic or untoward declarations happened after some intense arguing, or greatly emotional scene before or after a battle, with some mix in between but he..- there wasn't some high staked dilemma currently happening. There was calm, hearing the winds pick up outside the bedroom window, and they were alone.

He had his opportunity do to this before, and he had squandered it. Galvorn isn't going to make his intentions as clear as he had before, because Revyn explicitly told him not to but..- but that means _he_ has to this time around, and he doesn't have any idea where to begin or how to do so.

Revyn had been quiet for too long, long enough that Galvorn sat up a little straighter, looking at him with a bit of worry before the dunmer returned the glance, feeling awkward.

"That's an.. embarrassingly dull story actually," he said at last. Galvorn had his lower lip between his teeth, and Revyn did a terrible job hiding the fact he had been watching his mouth when he returned his eyes back up; and the way the bosmer seemed to regard him with interest had him averting his eyes again, clearing his throat. "When- well, that night you had walked me home, I had .. received a note. It was slipped under my door at some point."

Galvorn let him speak, and Revyn pushed through, moving his mug to join Galvorns' on the nightstand before settling back down, "It was ah, a curious note. Read a little strange, and was inexplicably.. oh, what's the word?" he paused, "just- _suggestive_. That's it, it was suggestive, and uncharacteristic, and signed by you."

Galvorn's brows rose, his mouth opened into a silent 'oh' shape. His jaw clicked shut after a moment, sitting forward a bit. "I have a few ideas what it may have said, if Calixto's journals were any.. indicator."

"It wasn't bad," Revyn reassured, "I suppose suggestive may be a bit stronger a word than I want but it was.. it implied some things, and asked me to meet with, presumably you, at the market the following night. Said you had something to show me."

He watched as the bosmer seemed to look away for a second in thought before he returned his eyes, brows pressed together in confusion, before saying; "Could you clarify what you were planning to do once you got there?"

Revyn squirmed a bit, fingers finding a loose piece of string from the inner seam of his pants. Honesty shouldn't be so difficult, the opportunity arisen to clarify his intent, and yet he found himself faltering again, "I hadn't come to a conclusion to that yet and still haven't." Galvorn was sitting upright entirely now, interest clearly piqued. Revyn avoided his look as he continued with, "I told you it was a particularly dull story."

The bosmer dipped his head in order to get Revyn to look at him, though his expression was unreadable as he pulled the dunmer's attention. His eyes flickered over and there were so many things he clearly wanted to say that were trapped behind his teeth that he simply did nothing with. He looked down to the other's hands, and Revyn quit fiddling with the string before Galvorn exhaled.

"You said coming here was impulsive?" and his voice was soft, clearly trying to understand something as he's connecting unrelated puzzle pieces and somehow still getting a correct picture, as Revyn nodded.

"It was.. today was rather awful." and he chuckled a bit humourlessly, "I left Greystone angrier than I've felt, in longer than I can honestly recall. I had some plans of heading home, of getting cleaned up and maybe seeking you out when I was healed if I didn't see you before, but.. some things changed for me very quickly and I needed to - to go. Leave for a while. Get air and calm down and I realized halfway I was- on my way here." he tucked his hands between his knees, "I was worried you either weren't home or would turn me away, but I just wanted to see you."

"I don't think it's possible to turn you away," and he sounded so serious, though his expression was gentle, eyes seeking when he said, "do you.. want to talk about what happened? Is everything alright?"

Revyn sniffed, "Not at all, but I'd rather leave it be for now, if it's all the same to you?"

Galvorn tugged at his own ear lobe, looking at the dunmer pointedly, "I'm just sayin', I've been gifted with acute hearing and you'll never come across a better listener this side of the Empire."

Revyn chuckled, hands still clasped together as he sat forward, "That implies there are _better_ listeners on the other side of the Empire."

"Yes, well," Galvorn sniffed, "I can't be the best at everything."

"That's rather difficult to believe," Revyn tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling.

 _You should tell him_.

Revyn resoundingly did not think that particular musing through when he sighed, "I'll be honest with you, I'm not at all supposed to be here."

"Skipping something, are we?" Galvorn joked a bit light, and Revyn scrunched up his nose, shaking his head. He focused his eyes on a faint crack on the other's ceiling, tracing the length of it, working every which way to keep his nerves at bay.

 _Just be honest_.

"No, no, more..-" he swallowed, throat feeling dry, "m-more on the side of specifically forbidden, actually." he exhaled, and along with it his anxiousness spiked.

He.. he needed to be open. He needed to be honest with Galvorn, because if he can't be then he should just gather himself and go home. To have plans of trying to-to _offer_ himself to someone he cannot even make himself speak to, is not someone he should be doing so with.

Revyn had to stop thinking so much.

Transparency mattered here, because if anyone was going to understand what he was feeling or what he was handling, it was going to be him. Revyn never stopped thinking about the conversation they had over dinner; he never stopped thinking about how embarrassingly aware Galvorn seemed to be of things _he_ never once questioned. Things he can't stop questioning now.

So much had happened so quickly, and so much of what Galvorn had been trying to say to tell him made more and more sense, and he felt like he was scrambling to save parts of his identity that no longer could be saved. He looked to the bosmer, because he had so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell him; he wanted reassurance he was making the right choice, desperate for confirmation that he wasn't making some terrible mistake because Galvorn made things seem so much easier than they were. He wanted to know what that felt like. Wanted to know if it was as freeing as it seemed.

Revyn was carrying realizations that he wanted so badly to explain out loud, wanted to be understood by someone who might help him make sense of it. An outside perspective of a situation that Revyn desperately needed to understand.

Galvorn's gentle expression had grown startled, something guarded behind his eyes as he looked the dunmer over as though he didn't understand.

"The letter Calixto had given me had.. caused a bit of an uncomfortable stir with my seer." Revyn elaborated, though the look did not go away, "she had been cross and disappointed in my... _indiscretion,_ as she put it. Expressed concern that I'm getting too friendly with an outlander and that I am to never see you again, under insinuated threat." he made a vague gesture at nothing as he spoke, "and now I'm here."

The startled look switched between outrage and bewilderment before a weird hiccuped laugh bubbled up and he dropped his head into his palms, looking back at the dunmer with a wild smile as he laughed, "I am endlessly fascinated by your - your mix-matched rebellious streak that I have both experienced and witnessed with such joy." and he couldn't stop the pinch between his brows, as his cheek rested in the palm of his hand, elbows on his knees as he spoke, " _Forbidden_ from seeing me? Over a letter I did not even write?"

"It's certainly more nuanced than what I'm saying at the given moment," Revyn replied dull, "one of the worst conversations of my life, and I had Calixto in my ear promising not to commit necrophilia against me if I behaved." he rubbed his hands down his cheeks, rubbing at his eyes with a huff. His life had become so strange so quickly it scarcely felt real. "That's not necessarily what I wanted to bring up, however," he dropped his hands again, tucking them between his knees, "no, I- I've given our previous conversation some thought. I've had.. a lot of time to think, while I was recovering. When my seer addressed the letter, and was.. dealing with my behavior, I noticed something." he sat up a bit, "she never brought up the kiss."

Galvorn gave him a funny look, "well, I would assume not, unless you told her of it?"

"No, you misunderstand, she didn't-" both of his hands moved in front of him, trying to find the right word, "- _know_. She would have listed it among her grievances with me, but it never came."

"Revyn, she wasn't there," and he said it like it was entirely that simple, but it _wasn't_ that simple, it wasn't- "she couldn't have known unless she had been present for it."

"Gal she's a _seer_ ," and he tried stressing the word, because he didn't know how to make it any more clear, "she's _supposed_ to know everything, to - to seer, and she just _didn't_ this time. I feel like this place may be out of her range, and I had once believed there wasn't one, and-"

"I don't mean to interrupt, but her _range_?" There was a hand on his arm, pulling his attention and Galvorn was looking him over with such seriousness it was jarring, "what range?"

Revyn frowned a bit, "her... range? I don't understand what you're not understanding." there was a pause as Galvorn stared at him, before Revyn tried to clarify, "she's a very powerful oracle. She _knows_ when any of us have.. well, lied to her, knows who is doing what at any given moment. She watches us. All of us. I don't know entirely how, but she's.. she's incredibly powerful. Though I realized maybe her oversight exists only within the city, because she did not seem to know I'd- I'd done anything wanton."

Galvorn was quiet a very long while, his body a bit still as though he was processing what Revyn was saying, for long enough that the dunmer began to squirm. Galvorn turned in his seat, facing Revyn fully as he held out both of his hands in front of him, to which the dunmer looked at them confused for a long moment, hesitantly taking them. Large hands clasped his own, where he turned his body a bit to face the bosmer a bit better, their hands falling between them as Galvorn regarded him with a long and serious look, opening his mouth to speak.

"There is a lot to unpack there," he said, almost reassuringly, though mostly concerned as he continued, "Revyn, do you trust me?" the dunmer was quiet, blinking at him confused when Galvorn said, "trust my opinion as someone who is worldly and well-traveled?"

Revyn furrowed his brows, nodding slow, "I trust more than just your opinion after everything, I hope you know. Why?" and he meant it, and was reassured when the bosmer seemed to squeeze his hands in his own.

They were warm.

"I want you to know, that this comes from experience, and I mean you no ill will. This is not coming from a place of dishonesty, or trickery, or to lead you..-er, astray, okay?"

Revyn frowned, "well, alright?"

Galvorn glanced down briefly at their hands before returning his attention up, collecting his thoughts, "I have been traveling for decades. I have seen things I struggle to describe, delved into all different areas of life. I've spoken among Jarls, Kings, and Emperors. I've rubbed elbows with a few of the Named families of Morrowind, numerous councils and clans, down to the everyday person and the folks down under." he was speaking deliberate and slow, dragging out his words carefully as he continued, "I've consorted with deadra and deity alike, done favours for the gods, spoken with dovah, and hidden among the shadows near powerful mages, seers, and necromancers alike, and I have never come across any entity in all my years that can see and know everything inherently."

That... that can't be right. They exist. Of course entities that powerful exist, Llavrana-

Galvorn continued speaking, his voice slow and serious, "I see that look in your eye, but even the Deadric Prince of knowledge and fate can _only_ access your thoughts in a way you would be violently aware of it. He cannot take without your knowledge unless you are deceased. You are very much alive, and she is very much not the Wretched Abyss."

Revyn didn't know how to respond to that.

"It's.. it's different, with her," he tried to say, but Galvorn shook his head.

"Your seer is no doubt a powerful woman, I have no doubts about her capabilities, however she-" Galvorn was grasping as words, wanting to be articulate and clear but forthright language had it's dangers he seemed aware of, "I have no desire to speak ill of someone you care for, but Revyn she is _not_ all-seeing. Even the Gods cannot read your thoughts or your intents. They simply can't. On what her reach may be, I.." he sighed, though there was a tension in his shoulders, "I cannot say with a complete doubt, but I can say with a near certainty, that scrying is a _dead_ magic." he explained, "The only place it was ever taught was within the Psijic order among the monks, and they've been missing for longer than you all have been in Skyrim, and.. well, were never in Morrowind to begin with."

Revyn shook his head this time, "how would you even _know_ that?"

Galvorn exhaled through his teeth, and it sounded like the explanation would only require further explanation itself, chewing on unspoken phrases, "all knowledge comes with a price, that I've, to date, paid in full," is what he said, "I study. I read. I ask questions. I gather what information I can on subjects that are of import to me. Uhm," he glanced off briefly, "in this case, some months ago I had.. dealings concerning the Psijic order, and I had some research to deal with. I dislike going into situations unprepared when I can help it, as I know I often impulsively act without thinking, otherwise." he exhaled, "none of that matters, right now. What matters is she's just... _lying_ to you."

Revyn's shoulders rose, flinchingly, "That's not true-"

"Lying is a strong word, granted, but she's _embellishing_." Galvorn insisted, "she's embellishing her capabilities to keep her flock in check, and I know it, and I feel like there's a part of you that knows it too."

The dunmer was at a loss for words, but Galvorn was by no means deterred, "I'm asking for your trust in me at the moment, and I know I'm saying a lot and you look so uncomfortable and I understand that. This is uncomfortable, but you are so bright and I want you to so desperately understand that it was jarring and horrific to see how terrified you looked when someone knocked that night."

Revyn closed his mouth, pressing his lips together in a tense line; Galvorn inclined his head forward, his voice dropping, "that fear she had put in you isn't normal, Revyn," and it was hard to feel lost when he was so grounding. "I - I haven't been able to think about much else since."

Revyn was staring down at their hands, trying to think; "it's- it's so much more complicated than that."

"I don't think it is," he felt a rise of defensiveness in him, before Galvorn sharply said, "Is Llavrana an absolute authority?"

The dunmer sighed, almost annoyed when he said, "Well, _yes_ , but-"

"Do the dunmer you reside beside suppress any skepticism or questions anyone may have?" Galvorn wouldn't let him finish, picking up at a rapid pace, "Are you afraid to bring up concerns with you seer?"

"Gal, I don't see how this is relevant-"

"You know _exactly_ why this is relevant." Galvorn continued, thought his voice was still so full of encouragement, edged with an unusual amount of frustation as he was trying to rush his words through, "What happens when dunmer disobey? Are they shunned out? Are their indiscretions shamed? Do they get thrown out for being other, or for not doing what they're told by your _absolute authority_?"

Revyn didn't respond, looking at Galvorn with his mouth pressed shut; his silence seemed to be answer enough.

"Why is anyone not of your group called outlanders? Why isn't anyone else allowed in Greystone? Why are outsiders unwelcome to the point that you simply becoming friendly in their eyes was too risky they had to outright forbid you? What was your _crime_ , Revyn?"

Revyn was grasping at straws, saying, "she insisted you wouldn't have my best interests in mind," his mouth felt dry as he spoke, his stomach twisted up in uncomfortable knots, "That you would just use me and that I have others who truly care for me, that you weren't.."

"Apart of the family?" Revyn went quiet.

He wasn't in a cult.

It's just his culture, it's- it's different it's-

"When she told you that I wouldn't have your best interests in mind, what did she imply? Or did she simply mean I would make you realize that she didn't have yours?"

Revyn didn't say anything.

"Does she make it clear that in order to be deserving of love, or be sufficient or worthy, you have to do it for her? That nobody else could be there for you outside of what she can provide for you?" Galvorn was squeezing his hands and it was the only part of Revyn's body that he had any feeling in anymore. "She relies on your shame and your fear, Revyn. She's groomed you and your peers into believing she is some divine otherworldy powerful entity when she is nothing more than a wise-woman who understands a person's behaviour very intimately. She can read people only if they show signs of guilt on their person, which is why she makes sure you all feel that guilt." Galvorn is looking at him intently, "I'm not even discussing your seer specifically, Revyn. These are commonly known aspects of cult leaders, well-studied phenomena that exist in a known pattern, and you were born into it."

These were common aspects of cult leaders.

These were..-

This was his upbringing.

He can understand why Llavrana was so terrified of him getting too close; every doubt and inconsistency laid bare at his feet to pick through and pluck as he saw fit, ones he once smothered and choked and swallowed until they were buried under years of conditioning and fear. Was that not normal? Was his upbringing so strange? Is it truly a possibility that she is not so far-reaching and powerful as she claims?

Decades of his life, believing what? Rituals he's practiced, rules he's never questioned, orders he followed without a word. The sacrifices he's made in the name of his culture, in the name of a home he hadn't seen in years; is that a cult?

Has Llavrana been lying this whole time?

Revyn was staring off blankly, his memories dragging to every instance of unfairness, of restrictions, and cruel punishment. Comparing the line that divided good and bad and what point of reference he never truly had to question it. Galvorn was sitting quietly as Revyn struggled to process what he dropped to his feet, when an inappropriate burst of laughter trickled from his throat.

It was soft at first before an inhale bubbled it up and nearly escalated it into hysteria if he didn't bring his hands up to cover his mouth.

Oh this _hurt_.

Could she really never tell?

Hiding thoughts and wants she could not actually hear?

There were scattered moments where he was sure maybe Galvorn was playing him a fool, until more and more of what he said just made _sense._ Where the more he considered the doubts he had, the more things clicked into place.

He doesn't know what good it will do; he doesn't think knowing what's happened to him will change much of anything.

That's still his home. Those are still his friends. His sister is still apart of that community that is still so ingrained in him, and he can't just leave. His business, his life -

He looked back up at Galvorn, and he didn't know if it was panic or exhilaration or simple terrified disbelief when he looked at his face; he felt this weight there that was still ever present, but it felt momentarily like shackles have released, if only on his wrists that had been rubbed raw with shame and fear. The guilt slowly ebbed, like bubbles attempting to rise from a sunken ship, and he reached forward to retake the bosmers hands, his laughter drowning to shaky inhales as he calmed, and Galvorn scooted closer until their knees were bumping and a clasped hand reached for his cheek, and Galvorn might have been speaking but he didn't know when he chortled in both disbelief and relief;

"I kept pushing you away," and he said it as though it was the funniest thing in the world, tears in his eyes though he was smiling, "I kept pushing and shunning you aside because I was so terrified of getting caught and what would happen. I was so convinced my spirit would be chipped away at and perish, and I'd never have a life after this one. So scared of what she'd do to me, and if there would be anything left if she concentrated well enough and heard all of the things I wanted to do so badly."

There was tension in the bosmer, clearly not sure what to expect, and when it became clear Revyn was listening to him, he nearly responded before stopping dead. Galvorn made a sound, blinking stupidly, "Wait..-? Wanted to do..?"

Revyn gave him a baffled look. "What? You can describe my upbringing in uncanny detail, but not pick up on that?"

It was Galvorns turn to look startled, and Revyn couldn't stop the soft laughter because he's afraid that if he did he would start to sob instead, and he really didn't have it in him right now to process much more grief and disaster in one day. If his moods keep swinging from one extreme to the next he's going to get whiplash; he cannot recall for the life of him the last time he's meditated, and when the shock eventually wears off he has no idea how to handle anything much further.

His life was unstable, and he was dealing with it; forcing in a few breaths to bring himself back to focus on one thing and that one thing was; his short list of goals. Everything else was too much right now, but that, that is manageable.

Of all of his ever-growing problems, this is one he wanted to throw himself into more than anything at the moment.

Galvorn was tangible, he was real, it was doable. Galvorn wants to talk cults, but Revyn wants to talk him into bed and he thinks of all of his issues at the moment, this was one he can actually get somewhere within an afternoon. Perhaps sooner, if he does this right.

He brought his hands to his face rubbing up against his cheeks, dragging the blunt of his fingertips against his scalp. There was a rise of exhilaration feeling as though the only person aware of what he was going to say was the exact person he wanted to hear it, feeling emboldened when he said; "Gal, I've been wanting your hands on me almost as soon as we began speaking. I don't think I've been outstanding at hiding that."

Galvorn froze, eyes a fraction wider, and closed his mouth. Pink made it to his cheeks and Revyn was surprised by it; wasn't it obvious? He felt so certain he was wearing his thoughts loudly on his face like a picture book, before feeling the sudden inexplicable embarrassment that maybe he had said too much.

He's absolutely _never_ done this before, and if he had a say in the matter he absolutely will never do it again.

"Have I misspoke?" he asked, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure if that was the exact right thing to say."

Galvorn made a sound in the back of his throat, before clearing it. Revyn didn't miss the pink colouring the tips of the other's ears, and got the distinct impression that what he said wasn't necessarily unwelcome.

"Not misspoke," was the bosmer's reply, though he had a funny smile work its way on his lips. "You can be blunt at times and it.. sometimes catches me off guard. After our.. last conversation, I wasn't expecting anything." Revyn watched in fascinated interest as Galvorn seemed to actually shift, "I had worried I'd crossed a line with you."

" _I_ crossed that line, not you," Revyn reiterated, pressing his palms flat against his lap, "you are under no obligation to follow rules that do not apply to you. I knew better, and yet I still.. I still went in fully knowing I wasn't allowed. I didn't care, and now it appears that it doesn't even matter," he inhaled, "I've been trying to figure out a way to make you understand I was trying to flirt with you. Then you went ahead and dropped ah, _that_ , on my lap, and I quite legitimately don't know how to proceed anymore."

They met each other's eyes, and they-

They just sat there, looking at each other.

Galvorn's lips parted, and Revyn wasn't trying to hide the fact he was observing anymore.

"You said it was impulsive," he noted, the sound a soft thrum between them. Revyn nodded.

"I don't understand it," he replied, his voice coming out almost as quiet to match his tone; he pressed his tongue against his cheek, "you came out of nowhere. A complete stranger with odd habits and all these secrets, and I.. I don't know you. Yet all I want to do is be around you. I want to listen to you talk about nothing in particular, the sound of you brings such calm and I.. I want to capture it somehow. Keep it for later. I find myself looking for you in places you have no reason to be, and I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Galvorn didn't say anything at first, before he seemed to swallow as well, and Revyn averted his eyes when he did speak up, "well, what do you want to do?"

He once had a very well thought out plan, when he was bedridden. His musings all based around whimsy and believing he simply did not have the confidence to go through with something so bold, and so felt safe to fantasize. It was so much more terrifying to say these things out loud. Revyn could hear how loudly his heart was pounding in his chest, feeling heat pool at the base of his belly in an anxious mixture of need, and dreadful want when he drily mumbled, "you."

The dragonborn was impossibly quiet, and Revyn's face was hot and he forced himself to look towards the bosmer, second-guessing himself and half scared to see disgust, and instead he just looked..-

Galvorn's cheeks were _red_.

His freckles stark along his nose and cheeks, lips parted, and he was sitting very still. There seemed to be some breath he had been holding, inhaling as though he'd half-forgotten to breathe. A faint _'ah'_ fell from his lips. Eyes relentlessly searching, seeking out something, and whether he found it was uncertain but he reached for him regardless, his voice practically a whisper, "is this okay?"

Revyn glanced at the hand, feeling a spike of heat tighten in his chest as the hand offered was close to his face. Instead of speaking, he nodded, and was gifted with the gentle press of a palm against his cheek, and he felt the mood shift in the room like a breath.

The bosmer's voice was a murmur, though they were sitting so close now it sounded clear as day, "what do you _want_ , Revyn?"

He didn't know, and it was clear he didn't know, but he still glanced between the other's lips and his eyes, feeling the heat burn his cheeks and he was so certain the other could feel it now too. Nervous and uncertain, even as he unconfidently pressed his hand against the other's knee, his mouth open with an exhale and closing having said nothing. Galvorn was so patient with him, and let his hand slip down to capture the dunmer's chin, caught between the side of his index and thumb as he raised the others head to look at him fully.

"I could deny you nothing," and his face was so serious for what he seemed to be offering, "but I won't do anything unless you tell me to. What do you want?"

Revyn breathed, and he felt like he was absolutely burning, squirming under the dragonborn's stare and at a loss for words. There was heat pooling in the base of his belly, sharp and sudden at the way Galvorn was looking at him, intense and full of need he didn't know what to do with, when he forced the words out, "I want to- to pick up where we left off," feeling his chest tighten at the pleased warm look, seeking it out as he murmured, "I want to keep going this time."

They were sitting so close, having no recollection of leaning forward but the pair of them were nearly bumping noses, and Galvorn dipped his head the remainder of the way so that they were, but not yet closing the gap. Instead, he watched him, and waited.

Revyn wasn't oblivious to what Galvorn was trying to do; he wanted him to initiate. 

He paused, looking between the darkened eyes of the bosmer and his lips, when the other chuckled low and rich; "Come on, little rebel," teasing, encouraging, and soft like a purr, as Revyn reached his eyes, "nobody is here but us."

Uncertain hands climbed up before the dragonborn's face, palms pressing against freckled burning cheeks and the heat of it was reassuring somehow. His thumb dragged against the other's cheek to the edge of his mouth, brushing against lower lip where a tongue chased along his path; the grip not against his chin, gently caught his hand, where he watched Galvorn turn his head faintly to the side, and press his lips against the base of his palm. Revyn inhaled sharply, his want almost suffocating when those lips pressed against his inner wrist, and Revyn thoughtlessly pulled his arm away, capturing the other's face between his palms as he pushed up on his knee, having no trouble chasing after the feeling, throwing caution to the wind and closing the gap with urgency.

Galvorn was right; there wasn't anyone there but them. It was time to start behaving like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Galvorn likes to think he's suave until the five foot five dark elf he likes says he likes him back; alternatively, Revyn "my life is falling apart but I _really_ want to sleep with you and I'm only gonna tackle one of these problems at a time" Sadri. (He's a little manic rn considering everything but Revyn won't always be dipping from one extreme to the next, it's been a fucking BAD week for him, and an even worse 24 hours.)
> 
> This is twice Gal has been all "you are in a cult and I want to help you" to which Revyn's response has been "cool, I will not be dealing with that right now pls make out with me"
> 
> How ever any of you think Galvorn sounds, (it can /really/ be whatever) but I've sort of envisioned Caduceus Clay when I started in on Wanderlust and I haven't been able to hear it differently since, and that's just kind of where I'm at right now. It absolutely makes no difference but I just wanted to point that out.
> 
> I'm like, in a weird in-between of wanting to take my time developing their relationship (still a lot we don't know about Gal) but this is a sex fic and I'm ten whole chapters in and there has been NO sex !!! I can still develop a relationship, but I have to keep reminding myself that they could easily be getting physical WHILE that happens. Thank you for reading!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy Halloween!!! This chapter went through 3 different versions and an anxiety attack over a job interview (I think it went well but who knows) but it's here now and I'm sorry for the wait!!
> 
> As an aside, if there are any weird typo's pls let me know, but I hope you enjoy!

There was a line here once.

At some point, undefined, there were perhaps many.

He crossed the first one when he was a teenager; having suffered his first pangs of yearning towards something and someone unattainable. It was the first and last time in many years he had ever self-abused and he had felt vile for a long while after. So sure everyone was aware but were too polite to say anything. He crossed the second and third well into adulthood; when someone had sold him some unmarked book, and he had tried to figure out how to price it later that night, only to realize while skimming that it was erotic fiction. That second line was crossed when he continued to read once he'd figured it out, while the third involved him seeking out more.

Other lines he danced over, some he skipped across, a few he passed without breaking the wire; he had stood trapped behind more than he once realized, when he recognized the string he once believed to be an iron rod, folding under a swift kick as he sauntered by. Whatever number this had been is lost to him, but it had been the way Galvorn had kissed him that caused it to crumple as he moved on to whatever was next.

He thinks perhaps this may be the final line, though he cannot know until he passes.

Firm and unwavering, dividing the sections of his life in concern of his propriety and the wanton underbelly it hid so well. A line he would have once described as being embedded in stone, the cracks all filled in with molten silver that would scorch as he came near. It could singe the very air around it, making it dry and sulfuric and impossible to breathe. Of all the cracks in the stone of this place, this one scared him the most.

Like a rune made of bad omens that he had pressed signs and reminders around to avoid, warning after warning he pushed aside and the heat felt so close now as he wandered near. He rarely found himself so close in fear of being burned; of all the lines he tore through, this felt like trespassing, looking over invisible shoulders to nothing as he sees the dozens of places he's pushed through to get here. He could turn back, return to any of these broken wires, when he's so sure he hears his name beyond the magma. It sounded of warmth and reason and filled with want and kindness and patience, as it beckoned him to pass and meet on the other side. He could see their hands, from glove clad to freckled and bare, and he was standing at the edge of it now, seeking them. 

It didn't hurt much, as he tried to figure out how to pass, though he noticed something odd then, as he stepped close and examined the task before him that once felt so insurmountable, and he couldn't help but notice it looked so faint; realizing as he scuffed it with his boot, that it had been chalk all along, as those hands reached forward towards him, and he accepted them wordlessly. He watched as the line passed beneath him, making it to the other side unharmed, and he never once believed such a thing was attainable.

His skin still burned, for a number of different reasons than the melting he once feared in the face of the dividing line; burning as the line had been crossed with a warm mouth against his, and strong hands curling against the waist of his trousers, feeling at peace as he felt the space the line once occupied, vanish somewhere behind him. 

Revyn inhaled so loudly through his nose that the heat spreading from his chest came from more than eagerness. Feeling white-hot embarrassment flood his cheeks at how badly he wanted this, and how desperately he did not want to seem it; but Galvorn's mouth was so warm and his hands pressed and held him with so much care that it was difficult not to. The dunmer didn't know what to do with his hands, grabbing a bit shaky at Galvorn's collar to keep him close, roughly tugging, to which the bosmer chuckled; the sound low and rich, and Revyn felt it reverberate in his lungs, ricocheting in his chest and down his thighs. His face so warm against his own, despite Revyn feeling as though he's baking in a furnace, as hands that were a fair deal more sure than he was raced to nest around his wrist, before dragging along his arm, smooth and warm, slipping around the dunmer's side.

Revyn didn't know if he was grabbing too tightly or not tightly enough, still precariously propped forward on his knee, when he felt Galvorn drag his hand down. The motion was swift, from the hip down, where he hooked against the crook of the dunmer's leg, maneuvering him forward. Revyn let himself be manhandled, following the guiding pull that led him to straddle the dragonborn, and goodness this felt so familiar.

Galvorn tilted his head back faintly to keep from forcing them to part as Revyn had readjusted himself on top of him. Seeking hands along thigh, before dragging under his loose shirt where rough palms pressed and trailed up his back, feeling a sharp shiver shoot up his spine and between his shoulder blades as he pressed closer; Galvorn's other hand slipped along his throat, curling against the back of his neck where fingers brushed through the hair at the base of his head, their mouths pressed close and firm and noses upturning by the absolute force of it.

Breathing was a conscious decision; labored and difficult when his lungs were filled with desire as if it were some tangible thing. 

Heart hammering against his ribcage, noisy with the rapid pounding of it in his ears, stuttering when lips parted and a tongue brushed against his lips; he felt weak. Mouth going slack against the silent encouragements of teeth that scraped and tongue that pressed, feeling light-headed with need as he followed the dragonborns lead.

He tasted like tea leaves and honey, Revyn thought deliriously, exhaling through his nose and breathing in the smell of bonfire smoke like a layer that clung to his skin. 

He didn't know what he was doing; didn't know where to pull or grab, didn't know where his hands were meant to sit or how to kiss back in a way that made Galvorn feel the way he was feeling right now. Revyn had no way of knowing what Galvorn was feeling, what he was thinking, if this felt good for him, or if _his_ want hurt just as badly as Revyn's did. If he ached too. It was unknown territory he was trying to tread, and there was so much fear of doing the wrong thing; of being known in this way, and how scary _wanting_ to be known in this way felt. What was okay, how did he go further? The people in his stories seemed to just know what to do next, but he _wasn't_ them. He didn't intrinsically understand how Galvorn might want to be touched, or what was too far or not far enough, but he was trying so hard to learn.

The only thing Revyn knew for certain was that _he_ wanted to be touched so badly that it was literally physically painful, and Galvorns hands have yet to wander in places he wanted them to. Pushed by impulse, the pit in his stomach tightened with tense heat as he threw caution to the wind and dropped his hips to connect with Galvorns.

Revyn keened sharply, tensing almost alarmed at how suddenly pleasure rushed against him, and his state only worsened when Galvorn's grip against his waist strengthened with vigor as his hips rocked up to meet him. The feeling was seizing, legs wanting to lock close but unable to, and he ground down to press and connect because _oh_ Gal is _distinct_ and it feels good. Sucking in a sharp breath because he's not getting enough air, fingers digging, but not too painful to leave a mark, as he just needs something else to focus on because it was so much and-

Galvorn makes a _sound_. Low and deep in his chest and it reverberates between them, like caverns with no discernable depth against his skin, and Revyn feels the hands on his hips grab his rear before being lifted, and Revyn finds himself with his back nearly slammed against mussed up covers before he even realizes what's happening. Galvorn is on top of him, hands against hiked up knees, down his hips and pressed between parted legs, mouth trailing from Revyns' who was breathing _rough_ and ragged, gasping weak where lips trailed from his mouth to his jaw, teeth grazing down his throat where mouth met collar and latched there.

He had never felt so aroused in his _life_. Blunt nails digging against quaking thighs, layers of clothes in the way and the friction wasn't nearly enough. Galvorn pressed the flat of his tongue against the darkened skin there, hips rocking when Revyn intertwined his fingers into the mess of blonde hair before him, feeling the bosmers muffled laugh against his throat when he tried to pull out the ribbon with no success, undoing about half the hair, now mostly in a half wrapped up ponytail, and Galvorn made no move to either hinder or assist. His hair was soft; clean and smooth under seeking hands, thick and taken care of, and there was so much of it he's sure he'd somehow get lost.

Teeth scraped his collarbone, latching his mouth somewhere else, biting and kissing as a calloused hand slipped up along Revyn's leg, pressing up against his hips and slipping under his shirt. Warm rough palms grazed his belly, causing Revyn to shudder, eliciting seeking hands to continue their path, brushing against the coarse hair along his midriff, mapping out the shape of him as he traveled up.

Yet, once the shirt was pushed passed his belly button, Revyn felt a rush of shame as his hands snapped down and caught Gal's wrists; he made to say _'wait'_ or any word at all actually, but all that came out was a whimpered _'a'_ sound that froze them both. It was instinctual, uncomfortable, and Revyn felt immensely embarrassed, but- 

He had no had a chance to properly groom himself in a little over a week and he was a mess, and the idea of Gal seeing him like this was.. upsetting. Not only that but he was just.. soft. Soft with unkempt dark hair on his stomach and chest, angular and narrow; he had the shape of someone who worked a counter and didn't see much in the way of frequent exercise. Neither fit nor impossibly thin, but the middle ground he landed in was by nature not a place he loved being in and- he's trying to be _desirable_. How can he do that when he looks unprepossessing in appearance when Galvorn is-

He couldn't stop thinking about the fact he has a nasty scar visible that he didn't want to see, let alone showcase, and it made his stomach twist. 

Galvorn had stopped what he was doing, upturning his head with concern, but before he could say anything, Revyn cleared his throat, glancing towards the lantern by the door.

"I- uhm. Maybe we could blow out the light or something?" Gal pushed up on his elbows, following Revyn's glance before returning his attention to the body beneath him. Revyn shifted a bit, feeling watched as he fumbled out, "please?"

"Would that make you feel more comfortable?" and he didn't sound accusing nor like he wanted to argue with him about it, and so Revyn gave a short nod. Galvorn accepted it without further question or prodding, ducking down quickly to press a kiss against his cheek, before pulling away. Revyn mourned the separation immediately, pushing up on shaky arms to sit upright as he breathed through his nose, heart still hammering away in his chest as he watched the dragonborn slip over to the lantern and snuff out the light. 

It was a little room so the absence was drastic, though there was still some light coming through from the doorway, Galvorn pushing it almost close with his foot to not completely hinder all visibility. Revyn didn't have good vision in the dark, able to make out basic shapes, and the soft glow that peeked through only gave general outlines; and as such, the shame and embarrassment that'd choked up Revyn's chest had lessened its grip, exhaling quietly. He watched the shape of Galvorn return, able to make out some details of him if he paid close enough attention and it felt safer somehow. More private.

It felt like too much to see clearly what was happening, and it was probably better this way to simply not know.

"Better?" Galvorn asked, quiet, though did not press the dunmer back against the sheets; not when Revyn had hooked his fingers along the belt loops of the wood elf when he drew near enough, keeping the dragonborn in place. Galvorn was stood between the dunmer's parted knees, who in turn gave another mute nod, looking up and feeling thankful he can't make out the details of his expression.

This was a lot.

It was a lot all at once and he's so sure he's going to feel unwell by morning, but he needs it, even if he had to ease his way there. Revyn traced the belt loop with his thumb.

"Thank you," he huffed, voice an exhale, "I'm sorry. I'm nervous."

"You have no reason to apologize," Galvorn murmured, feeling the dunmer press his hands a little above the top of his trousers where the skin meets, feeling the careful press of curious fingers brush underneath his shirt. "we can take this at any pace you need."

"We'll be here all night if that's the case," and Revyn had meant it a bit self deprecatingly, eyes trailing along the sliver of skin as his hands slipped up to press along the warmth there. He felt the chuckle, a palm pressing against his cheek and brushing against the length of his ear, shivering and leaning against the touch when Galvorn mumbled;

"Then we'll be here all night."

Revyn wasn't sure if it was possible to feel hotter than he did already, and yet he felt so sure he was radiating it; convinced he was burning the other's hand and yet Galvorn didn't pull away. Instead, he seemed to lean into it, thumb tracing the length of his ear, palm against burning cheek, and the want in him grew like the ritualistic fires he once manifested. Revyn sucked in his lower lip, chewing as he tentatively brushed up under Gal's loose clothing, where he was met with patience. Galvorn didn't shudder under his touch; he stood, unmoving, and let Revyn explore as the dunmer hitched the shirt up higher, feeling distinct muscle but pleased to feel give there as well. The more he felt the more he found, discovering a small series of strange bumps that his fingers traced, and it took almost no time to realize that they too were scars.

He could feel the thousands of stories this body carried like a canvas, but he didn't ask and it didn't say. Palms grazing fine hair by the other's belly, feeling Galvorn briefly tense when he trailed his hand down the front, as it grew coarser and ended when his fingers bumped the clasps of his trousers.

Revyn pressed the tip of his tongue between his molars, feeling bold as his fingers slipped against the belt there and began undoing the clasps.

He was going through with this; whatever ' _this_ ' entailed, anyways.

His fingers slipped around some of the straps and _oh_ this all hardly felt real. Reminding himself with every jerk and fumble that he was the only one holding himself accountable right now. He had always been, and he will always be, and if he wanted this then he was going to do it. He can have this, and nobody has to know.

He can have this, it's okay to have this.

Eagerness and trepidation flushing his limbs as he yanked a bit on the metal where the leather was pinned and Gal's hip jerked forward at the force of it, catching his balance by hitting his leg to the side of the bed. He laughed low in his chest and the sound of it was like the rumble of a faraway storm, and Revyn felt it in between his thighs like a swarm of moths that he's so sure will eventually tear through him; battering around him like an angry nest.

Revyn wasn't fully thinking as he pushed the now undone belt away from the cloth straps of the dragonborns trousers, hand brushing accidentally against the strain there and Gal inhaled _sharp_. Revyn froze, looking at what was before him.

Would it be okay if he just..-?

He didn't know and he's sure he isn't going to know unless he just does it and Galvorn informs him one way or the next; so he pushed some of the shirt up and away, fingers tugging at the belt hoops where he pulled Galvorn just a fraction closer, moving forward with only half a coherent thought as his nose brushed against the hair. Revyn just went with it, trying to think of what he thought might feel good as he pressed his mouth just below the other's belly button, trailing kisses along the path as he met hip and midriff as he carefully undid the buttons. He felt the waist of the trousers loosen, the final button undone and all he had to do now was just slip his hands in and shove it away; instead, he hesitated.

Was this okay? Is this what he's supposed to do? Galvorn wasn't stopping him so it was probably fine-

"You okay?" 

Revyn pauses a bit, hands hovering a bit uncertainly as he dips his fingers back against where the hips of the belt were once fastened. Uncertain as he asked, "Do I just..-?" and he pushed down on them a little and more skin became visible. He didn't know if he was just trying to use his hands, or his mouth, or what would even feel good because he wanted so much but he didn't know where to even begin or how to do it correctly should he try.

He trailed off and looked between Galvorn and the strain he was toting, and as if to finish his thought, he sort of pressed his palm against it.

Pressure seemed to be the exact right thing to do, as Galvorn immediately pressed back, before clearly collecting himself. The concept of having Gal simply react unthinkingly was perhaps the first real goal he was trying to accomplish here, adding a bit more pressure, and it was so very difficult to keep his breathing even.

There was a groan that slipped out of the other's throat, and Revyn wanted whatever that was so bad.

"You're thinking awful loud," Galvorn murmured, and Revyn sighed, moving his hands back to the bosmer's waist with a frown.

"I'm trying to figure out what you'd want." is what he said, thumbing at the open front, "I'm worried I'll do something you won't like."

Galvorn snorts a bit, the sound like smoke but his voice like honey; "You can do anything you want to me, and I promise it will be okay."

Revyn chokes a bit on his words, trying to look up blandly but worried his expression gave away literally everything else he was feeling when he said, "that is such a nonanswer," and Galvorn's fingers brush along his ear and nearly dislodge his thoughts before forcing out, "I don't know what I'm doing."

A warm hand tucked under his chin and upturned his head, and Revyn wasn't willing to acknowledge how quickly his heart sped up at _that_. He could see the faint features of Galvorns' face, feeling a thumb brush along his lower lip and he thoughtlessly turned his face to almost follow before stopping short.

"I don't expect you to," Gal responded, soft, "I'm trying to figure out if you want to lead or not." he dipped down a fraction, and Revyn stopped himself from pushing himself up to meet him, "I can take over if you want. Would you like that?"

Revyn's thoughts went quiet.

If he had been thinking at all, he would have known that it would be good to be in charge of how quickly things progressed; would have seen the benefits of talking through what either of them possibly expected out of this and how far would be too far, and how far wasn't nearly far enough. Had he _any_ coherent thoughts, he would have weighed the pros and cons of allowing Galvorn have his way with him, deciding where his trust in him truly stood, and realizing that only one person here had any idea what they're doing and it would be okay to let them lead the way.

In retrospect, he actively did the wrong math to end up with the same answer.

Because instead of _that_ , his thoughts were just some mash-up of stirred up arousal and absolutely nothing, because Galvorn had spoken to him in a _tone_ that made conscious active decision making difficult. 

Revyn pressed his mouth together as he nodded a bit stupid. Galvorn leaned down, knee bumping the bed by Revyn's thigh, chin still captured in the dragonborn's grasp, keeping him upturned to nearly kiss him again, when Revyn's hand tugged at the base of the bosmer's shirt and said, " _off_."

Galvorn didn't ask and simply did as he was told, straightening back up as quick hands crossed over his front and pulled his shirt free.

Revyn did not have much time if any to see the shape of him, when rough hands slipped against his sides that scooped him up, dropping him further onto the bed where the back of his head hit a pillow and his body bounced faintly from the fall. His breathing was _ragged_ , reaching for him as hands slipped up his shirt again, grazing and pressing and squeezing anywhere they could reach, to which Revyn quickly lifted himself up just enough to assist in getting it removed.

As soon as it was over his head, Galvorn was on him again. Hands against waist as Revyn parted his knees so he could fit between them; Galvorn dipped his head to kiss him again, feeling every desire spill through his lips as the bosmer made no secret of exploring the body below him. Revyn groaned, eyes falling close as he pressed into it, hands racing along broad shoulders and chest, pressing and touching everything he could reach because he wanted to memorize everything. Feeling rough and scarred but finding give and pliancy when blunt nails dragged against his back, strong hands slipping from his waist to grasp under his thighs and his legs were encouraged up around the dragonborn's hips where Galvorn ground against him.

Revyn tensed, a whimper in his throat that got muffled against tongue and teeth, hips shifting up to meet him, rocking against one another like a ship weathering a current, and Revyn hadn't felt so needy in his life. Pressure was building in the pit of his belly, noses bumping and breathing hard against flushed skin where he was beginning to tense.

"Please-" against the other's mouth, and his voice was a _wreck_ and he didn't know exactly what he was begging for but he hoped maybe Gal would know. It was fortunate that he seemed to understand in some way, not needing to be told much else as hands slipped down to tug at the dunmer's belt, pulling back far enough as to make room between them as the leather came undone, dragging down over near-trembling hips to shove them away.

Revyn felt exposed, trousers slipping away but unable to acknowledge any lingering nervousness as Galvorn was over him again, mouth against his cheek as he trailed kisses down his jaw, teeth grazing his ear as a hand slipped down along his thighs and-

Revyn choked on a moan, his hips jerked when a deft palm dragged down against the ache there, thighs locking up in a mixture of surprise and sharp pleasure but couldn't close because Galvorn was in the way. There was a moment where the wood elf had stilled, an unintentional pause pressed bare against him, and Revyn felt immensely vulnerable in that moment. The first stirrings of nervousness came, but it did not last, hearing a shuddering exhale come from the body against him, and Galvorn sounded _wrecked_.

" _You're_ -" he buried his face against the dunmers neck, other hand squeezing as he pressed kisses along his throat, breathless, " _oh you're perfect,_ " another kiss, harder, nose dragging against skin as he pressed his mouth everywhere it could reach, " _riellei, beautiful, you're so good_ -" he didn't give the dunmer any chance to speak, when he dragged his palm against him, _rough_. Revyn keened, his hand not making it to his mouth fast enough to muffle the sound, chased by the low rumble of short laughter as Gal smiled against his throat; still a little delirious by how hard he seemed hit by want as he spoke.

"Oh, you're _sensitive._ " and he sounded absolutely _delighted_ by this fact, while humiliation darkened the dunmer's cheeks. Revyn didn't have time to come up with any sort of sharp remark when Galvorn began moving again, grasping and pressing, his mouth dragging kisses and bites down his throat to the flush of his chest, along his belly, and his eyes widened when he realized what was happening, hand over his mouth when a wet heat met his inner thigh and Gal removed his hand only to replace it with his mouth.

A guttural dunmeri curse yanked itself from his lips and against the palm of his hand as a tongue dragged against him. Strong hands pinning his hips against the covers, unable to squirm or press back much at all, where his _own_ hands pressed over his face, not knowing what to do with them, feeling ragged breath against his-

His legs were pushed further apart before being hiked up over Galvorn's shoulders, and Revyn was absolutely _trembling_. He felt exposed and indecent but it was so hard to struggle with guilt when it felt like this. Gasping weak against his palm, wanting to move his hips but being so fully unable to; it was immensely frustrating despite the fact he was so incredibly turned on by it, and he was so sure he was going to be drowning in contradictions by the end of all of this, but he didn't want to think about it right now.

No, because it felt good. It felt _so_ good. Galvorn made him feel so-

He was- he was all tongue and cheek, and Revyn knew he was being watched but he could not bring himself to look, because _oh_ , there were hands squeezing him and - he was reduced to puddles, clutching at the sheets by his hips, back arching when that wonderful, perfect, delightful, _incredible_ heat was so enveloping and he couldn't get close enough. His skin felt tacky, and he didn't know what he had expected when he offered himself up the way he did, but this was so-

There were plea's rushing from his lips, hiccupped moans and sounds he was trying so hard to muffle but couldn't. Slack but wound up, close to spiraling. 

A needy mixture of vulgar desperation and how he badly he wanted it ricocheted like an echo in his otherwise empty head, that trailed from down his spine like a shiver and festered in a place he was no longer certain where he ended and Galvorn began. Not convinced he'd be able to tell if he examined it under a glass. 

His stomach tied up and flushed with heat and need and - and - wai- _wait -!_

Revyn's hands snapped down when he felt a flood of something rapidly begin to manifest between his thighs, and he so weakly tried to shove at him to pull away but only ended up grasping at Galvorn tighter as he gasped, "by _azura_ hold on I'm-" cut off when a sharp whine tore from his throat. He dug his fingers against the other's arms by his hip, ecstasy flooding like a fever. His hips stuttered, hand slamming against his mouth to muffle a cry, and Galvorn just _took_ it. Revyn accidentally kicking him when he locked up, head to the side against the pillow, gasping for breath.

Heart pounding away, his breathing shifting from sharp to laboured, before going lax entirely. Galvorn pulled back, though the motion was dragged out and deliberate and Revyn inhaled weak at the feeling. Cold air drifted where Gal had once been, shivering in its gradual wake.

" _Very_ sensitive," was mumbled against his thigh where the bosmer trailed butterfly kisses along his leg, Revyn took in a breath. The build that had tightened in his stomach lessened, raising a shaky hand to press past his forehead and thread through his hair, landing on the pillow with a huff. Galvorn pushed up to his palms, pressing a kiss just under Revyn's belly button, slowly kissing a trail back up. Revyn had a hard time focusing on him through the dark, struggled to make out his face when there were spots in his vision.

"M'sorry," Revyn breathed, "y'very good."

"And you're very noisy," Galvorn laughed against his skin, the sound light and faraway as he pressed his mouth anywhere he could reach, before making it to the dunmer's collar, "and why are you apologizing?"

"I..-" he inhaled through his nose, eyes falling half-closed at the rather gentle way Gal was handling him at the moment, making a half non-gesture at something but his arms were shaky and collapsed back to the covers as he said, "was trying to.. stop. That happened- fast."

"Why would you need to stop?" mouth against his throat, kissing along his jaw until Revyn turned his head to meet him. Revyn scrunched his nose, tasting what was presumably himself but not pulling away. Galvorn slipped a hand along the flushed belly beneath him, lazily brushing up his side, before tucking between his shoulder blades and the covers. Galvorn was mumbling against his mouth, low and rough as though being dragged over gravel, "you seemed to be enjoying your newfound freedom, little rebel."

"I am," he sounded so breathless, and Galvorn shifted against him and Revyn felt the press of his arousal still prominent now against his leg; exhaling, "but I use- used it up. S'gone now."

Galvorn was close enough that Revyn could see the slight furrow of his brow, clearly not understanding. "What's gone?" he prodded a bit, thinking, "If this is about that worry with your spirit-"

" _No_ , I mean my-" he could not think of what the specific word was at the moment, hand grasping at air, "my- my _go_. My..- whatever just happened. I used it."

Seeing the clarity flash in the bosmers eyes was fascinating, as it was watching an amused smile reach his lips, leaning forward to press another kiss against the high flush of the dunmer's cheek; those hands squeezed him, before Galvorn slipped up onto his palms, nestled between the other's legs, bent and tucked under him with Revyn's hiked over each side. He ran his palms down along until they reached the crook where hip met bent leg, thumbs dipping inward.

"Who told you that?" was the reply, and Revyn didn't know what to say to that, "who told you that you only get one?"

Revyn froze a bit. His books- "..don't we?"

There was humour when the bosmer said, "not unless your ears are rounder or your skin scaly." hands running along still trembling thighs, "but I see ears as sharp as a blade and you are far more pleasant to touch than scale, looking every inch like the midnight sky." a breath, and "you can go as much and as long as you want. As long as you still want to, of course." Revyn inhaled sharp when those hands slipped down to press against his rear, but his limbs felt lax and - and warm, "but I don't think we should overdo it tonight, especially since you've never done this before."

Revyn was nodding along, though he was absolutely quaking at the implications that they didn't have to stop yet. Mouth dry, and something must have shown on his face because Galvorn exhaled and he sounded liked he needed this too.

Revyn shifted his hips down, pushing to sit upright before his hands sought towards the waist between his legs, pulling at the loose straps there. Galvorn watched as Revyn hesitated only briefly at where his fly was undone before pressing his palm just beneath Gal's belly button, slipping under the fabric. Galvorn hoisted the dunmer onto his lap as unpracticed hands found what they were looking for, pulling him free with little ceremony. Revyn's forehead was met with Galvorn's own, struck with the intimacy of the situation but all his focus shot down to the tense heat against his palm.

Revyn sputtered out a faint sound, because _oh_ there was a bit more than he was expecting. The hands against his hips, tensed, Gal's nose brushing against his own, slow but short breath rolling against his face. Galvorn was patient and unmoving, visibly in a state but seemed set on allowing the man on his lap to do what he wanted at his own pace. Revyn didn't want to disappoint him, fingers wrapped around before settling on a firm grip, pressing back rough with his palm.

Galvorn hoisted him up to push his own legs out from under him, pulling the pair of them until he had his back pressed against the wall, setting the dunmer back to his lap where Revyn straddled him, his knees hiking up behind the dunmer which bumped him forward. Gal stayed so close, noses touching and Revyn was trying to figure out how he wanted to do this, when rough hands grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. Revyn blinked a little confused, because _surely_ he wasn't doing so bad as to warrent being pulled off, when his hand was brought up to the bosmers face. Revyn's fingers brushing against the others warm cheek before his palm was pressed flat against the dragonborn's mouth, which parted and - and a tongue dragged against him. He muffled an embarrassing sound as he felt it go from base to fingertip, and so much of him wished he almost hadn't asked him to blow out the lights, because he would have given anything to have seen it clearly rather than just see the shadows they were, wantonly moving in pieces about one another.

He could feel Galvorn's eyes on him and he's beginning to suspect that darkness doesn't hinder his vision as much as it does for himself; regardless, he didn't need Gal to guide him back, shifting forward as he pulled himself free from his grasp, returning to the strain between them. Unsteady but growing in confidence and wanting as his hands wrapped around properly, feeling immensely pleased when he felt the bosmer jerk a bit underneath him.

This was strange. It was strange and hard to tell if he was doing alright, but the way Galvorn's breathing was so rough and how tightly he was gripping Revyn's legs, rubbing his palms down the length of them like some mixture of a patient plea and encouragement. He felt a kiss against his brow as Gal reached for his wrist again and guided him for a moment, his voice barely above a whisper that reverberated between them like a storm, coaxing and warm as he showed him what to do and how much pressure to use and Revyn prided himself on being a quick learner.

It felt surreal somehow hearing the hitch in the other's breathing and knowing it was his own doing. How outrageously good it felt to feel Galvorn's hips rock almost in rhythm, and he was so good and Revyn wanted-

He removed one hand from what he was doing, moving out half-blind to find whatever hand was in-reach along his sides, as he grasped and fumbled and was found by Galvorn's grip who didn't seem to care or wonder why he was being sought. Not until Revyn pulled it to his mouth, deliberating; Galvorn appeared to peer at him, though he seemed to have his attention split between the hand still rubbing him out, and whatever half thought out idea Revyn was still chewing on by the time said dunmer pressed his mouth against the palm of the dragonborn's hand. Turning his face towards where the fingers were half curled close, as they opened along with the movement, brushed over his nose, and with some aroused half-idea half-need, he followed Galvorn's lead and dragged his tongue out from behind his teeth and against the middle and ring finger, heat flushing his face at the shuddering inhale he elicited when he took them into his mouth.

He didn't have to say it aloud; didn't have to ask or beg as Gal took the hand that was between his legs and brushed it aside, his free hand slipping underneath the base of Revyn's ass as he hoisted him up closer. Revyn dropped and their hips connected, arousal tight in his belly with such wanton need as he ground down against the bosmer who swallowed a sound, pushing his hips up to meet him.

Galvorn's fingers were fine; calloused and long, and Revyn had only ever done this to himself but he needed to know and needed to feel it. Afterimages of himself writhing in his bed alone at night, haunted by dreams of hands against and inside-

He could see the heavy rise and fall of Galvorn's chest, feel him move and meet him, and the friction felt like little shocks that are jolting just under his skin. Tongue dragging sloppy and unpracticed, feeling the caress of a thumb against his hollowed cheeks, knuckles knocking faint against his front teeth until Gal pulled free, taking a thin trail of saliva with him as he did. The hand against the base of the dunmer's rear squeezed, hoisting him back up which disconnected the building friction. Galvorn slipped down between the dunmer's legs, and Revyn dropped his head against his shoulder.

He didn't know if it was out of shame or embarrassment or if he simply felt weak but he didn't know what else to do.

"Talk to me," Galvorn's voice was somehow both gruff and faint, fingers seeking in a way that had Revyn twitching against his lap. "I don't want to misunderstand."

"You're not." was all he could say, and as though to prove his point, he wiggled his hips where they were barely suspended, arousal almost painful as he kept his face down, arms wrapping around the bosmer's shoulders because it felt stable to have them out of the way, and felt grounding to be grasping at something other than air. Galvorn turned his head, mouth pressed against his ear and Revyn felt hot and useless and so aroused it hurt when Galvorn began circling, clinging to Revyn as he trailed his mouth down ear and jaw, trailing between.

"How do you feel?" Revyn turned his face against the other's throat, hearing the rapid though steady pulse just beneath, letting his hand drag against the back of the dragonborn's neck, fingers threading through the soft loose hair there. He exhaled.

"m'good," he swallowed, eyes half-closed and pressing back against the pressure. "feels'nice."

"You feel nice," Galvorn hummed, amused. "if this is something you want, you're going to have to forgive me tonight because we can only go so far."

Revyn inhaled, "how're-" he cleared his throat, focusing on how to talk which was outrageously difficult. "how are you so chatty?"

Galvorn laughed openly at that, and the sound was like windchimes and it pulled at something in Revyn's chest. "Practice," is what he said, though clearly there was a long answer somewhere in there, but not the time to explain it, as he mostly stopped circling, pressing against the dunmer who tensed up a fraction, unable to muffle the whimper.

"f-far what- what did you mean by that?" he tried to say, though it was muffled against shoulder and it's a wonder that any of it came out at all. "this is already far."

"Not yet," Galvorn murmured, and Revyn almost stopped breathing entirely as one finger pushed past, a hitched sound escaping as it pushed down to the knuckle; he buried his face against the crook where neck meets collar, blunt fingers digging against shoulder where his arms were wrapped. Galvorn had faint mumbled praises against his lips, his other hand smoothing encouragements along trembling thighs to relax, though it took some time to do so.

Once the dunmer wasn't holding so tight, relaxing in his grip, Galvorn squeezed his hip, kissing his shoulder.

"I want to," there was a strain in his voice, edged in eagerness as he very slowly began moving, "so much. I want to so much. But you-you're so tight. I don't.. I can't- _fuck_ , I don't have what I need for this." Gal's head dropped back against the wall, turning towards the merchant in his arms when he said, "I didn't think you'd want..- you'll get hurt. If we rush, it'll hurt."

Revyn couldn't respond at first, focused entirely on the strange sensation buried in him as he tried to process what was coming out of the other's mouth, "wh-what are you- we missing? What's missing?"

A kiss against his temple, then, "oil," nose brushing against the path of his hairline, "helps with bad friction."

"Oil? I'm not a-" Revyn's voice hitched, cutting himself off as Gal pulled half out and pushed back, feeling pace change and he rocked down to meet, losing his train of thought. Revyn had no idea what _bad_ friction was but he didn't think it was possible for this not to feel as good as it did; not when Galvorn was being so attentive, he didn't really feel it was even possible for Galvorn to hurt him, his hips rocking, struggling incapable in the dragonborn's grip because he wanted so much more but Gal was clinging to him so tight and he couldn't-

"Not a what?" and the voice was by his ear and the breath of it shot goosebumps down his neck. Revyn leaned towards the feeling, squeezing around Gal's shoulders tight when he didn't answer because he couldn't remember what he was going to say anymore. Not like it mattered when heat was building and his nerves were on fire and the lack of response had Galvorn chuckling faint; intimate as he pressed his hips up, arousals brushing and causing the dunmer to jerk with a moan. 

Galvorn picked up the pace a fraction until Revyn was gasping and legs shaking, hands tense as he rocked his hips against the grip; Galvorn pressed the second finger against, which caused Revyn's hips to stutter and stop, breathing hard through his nose. His temple was met with lips, Galvorn hoarse and hushed against him with praise of, ' _oh you're doing so good_ ,' and ' _relax, little rebel, like that, you're so good-_ '

Revyn made a sharp sound in the back of his throat, and there were pleas spilling from his lips against freckled shoulders, humiliation colouring his cheeks at how desperately he was moving but it was hard to feel so completely embarrassed when he could feel the strain under him, or feel how hard the bosmer was breathing; hard to feel like what he was doing was so disgusting and vulgar when there was someone beneath him that seemed to want it as badly as he did.

There was a sharp wind howling just outside, and the cabin gently creaked against it.

The scarce reminder that there was a world away from this moment and that Galvorn wasn't entirely encompassing was faint and flickered as quickly as it came. Awareness of his surroundings gone in place of the heat building sharp between their moving bodies, and he became suddenly very aware that Galvorn never fully removed his pants, still loose around his waist.

Of all the silly things to forget.

Galvorn released his grip from the base of Revyn's ass, hand slipping between them as Revyn dropped his hips against them, moving freely; he keened, surprised by how loud it was. All friction and heat and need as they ground together, and he could feel the control in Galvorn slipping as he moved more erratic and needy. He was hard against him, and Revyn wanted it so badly, adjusting his hips in a way that had it bump where the fingers were pressed inside of him and he felt Gal tense up underneath him with a weak groan. Faster than Revyn could process, he was on his back again, head hitting either clumped up blankets or the base end of a scrunched pillow and Galvorn was on top of him, still between his legs when the flip happened and his mouth was on his again and Galvorn kissed him the way flowers drank up the sun.

Revyn could feel every ounce of their shared desperation; writhing breathlessly as the bosmer picked up the pace, but he wasn't _inside_ -

" _please_ -"

"Know I _want to-_ " was the weak reply against his lips, and his voice sounded so strained, " _I want to so much,_ " as he went in for another kiss, harder this time, and he pulled his fingers free only to rub his palm rough down the dunmer's arousal before both hands pushed his legs further, and Revyn choked on the cry; fingers digging against the others arm, other buried in the sheets as Galvorn encouraged that newfound feeling of euphoria that was building in the base of his belly and spreading against his thighs again, his breathing going labored.

The hand that hadn't been inside of him pressed against his cheek, and his face turned to almost hide against the palm because the feeling of it was so grounding; overly stimulated and so close he was-

" _Riellei_ ," there was a kiss pressed against his temple, " _Revyn, look at me_."

Revyn was so lost he couldn't even consider not complying, as half-lidded eyes sought him out and despite the darkness, he could see the shape of him, and his eyes were so blown and warm and full of-

His back arched against the sheets when it hit him; almost sobbing at the intensity of it as he locked up, heat flooding him like a rush of boiling water set to cool on his skin. He was riding out the aftershocks when he heard a far more muted groan, and _oh_ he sounded so sweet- feeling Galvorn shudder against him, heat splashing between them as they reached their enthusiastic end.

Galvorn had squeezed him tight before his grip relaxed, and Revyn was so sure he was going to find bruises there come morning. His own hands slipping away and towards his face, rubbing at his cheeks with a breath as he sucked in air and feeling like there wasn't enough of it; his hands falling to the pillow with a huff.

Dazed eyes fluttered open and..- ah, that's the appeal then.

His brain barely registered what he was looking at for a moment, as he took in fucked up hair and flushed cheeks, parted lips and half-lidded eyes, brows just barely furrowed as Galvorn was just.. breathing. He was just breathing. His eyes focused on Revyn, shoulders raised as they kept him up, perhaps not collapsing fully in some mild fear of crushing him when he just..- smiled. It was so faint and barely there, but there was such a serene expression of warmth against his freckled face, it tugged at something just behind the dunmer's ribcage, and he didn't know what to make of it.

His heart was pounding so loud, though he didn't know fully from what. His thoughts quiet as Galvorn dropped his head, cheek pressed against flushed collar, gasping rough against his throat. Body lax, though he felt Gal drag up briefly to press another kiss against his cheek, before he pushed to collapse onto his side, still facing his way.

Revyn turned to follow, pulling his legs up a little as his cheek pressed against the pillow, sharing breath. Gal's hand met his cheek, ducking his head down far enough so their foreheads were touching, and nothing was said for a long while.

Listening to the wind howl just outside the cabin walls, but it was calm and quiet here.

Revyn's eyes closed, feeling a thumb caress the length of his ear, his own hands pushing just far enough that his knuckles brushed against his chest.

What was so wrong about this? Why had it been so important that he not indulge in something that felt this harmless? Revyn was struggling to remember the reasons, struggling to recall why he had been so scared, when he had never felt so wanted and safe. It was.. a lot. A lot to process. So much of the day happened out of his control, but now that the tension has released, he was crashing.

He didn't know if it was good or bad, he just understood that it was happening.

Revyn sleepily opened his eyes because he felt looked at, glancing up to see tired eyes watching him, trailing the movement of a hand as it lazily traced Revyn's ear, when he noticed he was being stared at too. Galvorn met his eyes soundlessly, and he smiled again, still just as small, still just as faint, before pressing a kiss against the bridge of his nose and...

Revyn swallowed.

He would have thought that maybe this ache he felt around Galvorn would lessen somehow. That offering something of value to him would eradicate that feeling in his chest like a swarm of moths battering against his rib cage, but it didn't.

It only worsened, and he didn't understand why.

It had been good. He had felt so good, and every moment with him had been so wonderful, so why does he feel so incredibly sad?

Revyn reached up to take the other's wrist, turning his head to press a kiss against the palm before reaching for the mess of hair on the other's head. His fingers finding Gal's temple, brushing back to meet hairline where his fingers threaded through; blunt fingertips brushing against scalp where he noticed Galvorn's eyes briefly close.

Those moths did not rest.

"How do you feel?" Galvorns voice was a muted whisper, but Revyn was close enough to make it out. 

He didn't really know how to answer that.

"Complicated," was his reply, and he was so thankful his own voice wasn't the same quality of shaken that it had been. Galvorn didn't say anything, his thumb brushing against Revyn's cheekbone, almost as though to wait for him to say more, but it never came.

Complicated because he still wanted to be here. Complicated because he did what he thought he was supposed to, trying to ease that feeling in him but it only felt worse. Complicated because they were done and he would need to eventually go home and nothing was really solved; he wanted to stay here, and not think about home or Ambarys or his seer and the truly treacherous act he committed against the flesh that would surely have him killed, or worse, should he be discovered.

It had.. it had felt so good.

It was so hard to feel guilty about something he didn't regret.

If perhaps they were both wrong about what Llavrana could see, then at least he got to experience what it felt like to be wanted like this, if for a little while.

"Is there something I can do?" Galvorn asked when Revyn didn't elaborate.

His fingers were brushing through his hair, blonde and soft, and all over the place. Revyn spent a moment dragging his hands from scalp to cheek, down jaw to collar where it eventually landed on the bosmer's chest.

"Think I want to get cleaned up," is what he said, sighing a bit faint, "we've made a mess of your sheets."

Revyn was hoping maybe for a snort or anything other than the quiet way he was being regarded. He didn't get that. Instead, Galvorn sat up, brushing some hair from his face and quietly slipped from the bed, briefly brushing the other's side, and it was completely unclear whether or not Gal had wanted him to follow, but his legs were still mush and there was light outside the room, and he didn't wish to be seen clearly.

Galvorn slipped away and out the door, warm orange light flooding the floor and half the wall in the small space from the main chamber. Revyn pushed up on his palms, sitting up with a frown because he felt strange and known in a way he had no control over anymore.

He slept with someone.

He had wantonly spread his legs like some harlot at the first sign of reciprocity and someones-

There had been a _mouth_ on him.

Then the way Galvorn had made him look up at him when he was about to- 

Heat never quite left his face but it noticeably burned more when he recollected that little moment. He pressed his palm over his mouth, dropping his face against his hands and rubbing down his cheeks with a groan.

 _Oh,_ Galvorn makes him _ache_.

He heard footsteps approaching once again, his hands dropping to wrap around his middle once the door was pushed open a bit further, Galvorn sauntering back in with a few things in hand and his trousers resituated and everything all put away. Revyn didn't have the opportunity to feel exposed as the bosmer placed what looked to be a folded quilt or two on the edge of the bed, before extending his hand the dunmer's way; Revyn accepted it after a moment, carefully pulled to his feet where he was met with lips against his forehead and the intimacy of the moment was by no means lost on him. Galvorn ducked his head, pulling something from the pile as he offered a rag, gesturing towards the door.

"There's a washroom first door to the left of the front door. Take a second, come back when you feel less sticky. I'm going to clean up a moment." Galvorn kept relatively quiet as he spoke, hand brushing the dunmer's shoulder who simply nodded and slipped out into the light without another word.

The glow was muted from the fireplace but the sudden light did hurt his eyes a little, feeling self-conscious walking across an open room wearing nothing and quickened his pace towards the door at the far end. Meeko looked dead asleep in front of the firepit, breathing slow and unmoving as Revyn walked past, reaching the door with an exhale as he stepped through, closing it firmly behind him.

Revyn squeezed the rag, avoiding looking in the mirror as he quickly noted where everything was; bin, toilet, sink, two small closed shelves, and a relatively nice tub pushed towards the back; pleased, funnily enough, that at least this room look untouched by the tomes that seemed to seep into every other room here. Everything look clean, given his quick cursory glanced around, noting the one small window high on the wall, the glass grainy that showed snow piling on the outside windowsill. Revyn glanced over his shoulder, noting just the one low burning lantern by the door, and nothing else.

By the _Divines_ , what has gotten into him?

Revyn shook his head; he wasn't going to deal with that right now, returning his attention back to the rag.

Clean up. Just focus on that.

He spent some time freshening up; wiping himself down the best he could, but it felt almost like trying to wipe away a layer of skin, considering how sweaty he felt and he worried greatly that he might smell. Pressing his nose against his arms told him absolutely nothing, but he was so sure of it, and yet it felt rude and silly to try and use Galvorn's handsoap to do some personal cleaning, when he caught sight of himself in the mirror by accident.

Ah.

Oh, he looked a right mess.

He tried averting his eyes but the damage had been done, looking back as he stepped forward more to see the state of him and it was _bad_.

Revyn had never seen his hair sit quite like that, as he placed the rag down against the lip of the sink, smoothing through it and pushing it back, but as often as he was tossed around, hair smothered against messy sheets, it seemed to have little desire to cooperate. A little frustrated, his hands slipped down to touch at his face, poking at how gaunt he looked and over the dark spread of flush that never quite left his cheeks, making him feel as though he looked patchy and odd. Tilting his head side to side, he couldn't shake how absolutely busted up he looked when he noticed the dark marks along his neck and collar, blinking a bit confused as he moved closer to the mirror, fingers brushing over them, wondering if he had somehow developed a rash during his time in Greystone before recalling that Galvorn had- he had his mouth there. 

Revyn froze a bit; that can happen?

He didn't know if the stuttering in his chest had more to do with the fact that he had no idea how to hide something like that, or the fact that he _really_ liked it.

Where is this _coming_ from?

Revyn pressed his lips together, feeling frustrated with himself. This was a _problem_. Marks on his neck were a problem and needed to be handled as such but.. he didn't really know how. His fingers brushed up, tracing the light bruising with a faint exhale. They were low enough that a somewhat high collar could easily cover them, but he cannot for the life of him recall if he has anything like that available. His hands fell to the lip of the sink, staring at the marks as he tried to set out some plan on how to tackle any of this. He felt those knots returning to his belly, and at this rate he was going to have the wrong sort of ache in the morning.

There was a soft knock on the door that startled him from his mild stupor, voice barely muffled, "everything okay?"

Revyn glanced at the door through the reflection, pressing his lips together before looking at himself again. "I'm alright," he replied, "I am just.. rather filthy still at the moment."

There was a pause beyond the door, then, "Do you think a bath would help?"

Revyn glanced at it, "...perhaps."

There was a gentle laugh outside the door, and it sounded as though Galvorn pressed his forehead against it as he continued speaking, "Is it alright if I come in?"

The dunmer glanced down at himself, feeling that surge of self-consciousness all over again but- this.. this was different. Gal has already put his hands on him, so just existing without clothing isn't- it isn't bad. It's fine. It's not as though Galvorn can take any of that back now or make matters worse, and Revyn already got what he wanted either way, even if Galvorn might begin to think he looks rather homely.

"I'm indecent," is what he said because it felt better than voicing any of that, and when he didn't elaborate Galvorn seemed to not know how to respond.

"Is that.. a warning, a statement, or an invitation?" was the reply, and the confusion in his voice was endearing, "I can become indecent again if you would prefer not to be the only one."

Revyn laughed under his breath, and the anxiousness over it seemed to lessen somewhat as he slipped back to the door, cracking it open a fraction to peek through, seeing Galvorn jerk his head back a bit; startled and nearly stumbling forward from where he had been resting against the door, clearly not having expected it to open. He blinked down at the dunmer, before smiling a bit lopsided, "ah, hello again."

"I don't have an answer for anything that you're asking, but if you come in you can't stare." and while he meant it firmly, the bosmer regarded him a bit amused and simply nodded, pressing his hand against his chest in a way to insinuate sincerity.

"I'll keep my eyes averted as much as possible," dropping his hand to his side, "as impossible a task as it may be."

Revyn rolled his eyes in good humour, though his stomach did knot further as he stepped aside and let the door open. Galvorn kept good on his promise and didn't look him over when he stepped inside, turning his attention to the tub as he slipped past. Revyn crossed his arms over his torso, shifting a bit until he awkwardly found the closest wall to lean against as Galvorn set himself to messing with the tub. Revyn noticed then that he didn't seem to keep pots in this room for hot water boiling, but opted to say nothing as Galvorn sat down against the lip, setting the water to fill.

Revyn took a second to look over the looser clothes Galvorn had put on, soft and lazy looking as though he was ready to get sleep, and Revyn recalled that ah, he's going to have to walk home after this.

The idea of going back to his shop made him almost want to cry, so instead, he stepped forward and took a seat on the lip as well, pressing his knees together and folding his hands between them. They were quiet as the water rose; rising up to the halfway point that Revyn would usually stop it at to add warm water, and he was about to ask, when he watched Galvorn press his hand inside. The water rippled when he broke the surface tension, watching him confused when he saw a warm glow emit from the submerged hand; it clicked then, what he was doing, watching fascinated as the water began to bubble and slowly heat, bubbling where Galvorn's wrist was, as he did a short stirring motion, moving the water around until he was satisfied. After a moment, he pulled his hand free, shaking the water off as the flame in his palm evaporated the rest before flickering out.

"Clever," Revyn hummed; so much easier too, he thought, but decided not to add. Galvorn glanced at him with a short smile before turning his eyes back to the water.

"I'm impatient," he replied, "I think impatience has forced me to be innovative, as a result."

"Better than my process of waiting an hour for three pots of water to boil," watching as Gal turned off the faucets, pushing to stand and stepping away towards the closed shelving by the sink, pulling it open.

"Bathing is a long enough process as it, I hate for it to take all day," is what he said, pulling two bars of presumably soap and a towel out, returning as he set them aside and gestured for Revyn to get in the water, taking a seat on the lip again. Revyn turned on his seat, pressing his hand into the water; it was hot, but by no means unbearable. He sighed a little as he sat sideways on the edge of the tub, putting one foot in, before feeling more sure of himself that the heat isn't a problem, he slowly slipped down.

Exhaling as he submerged himself, holding his breath before he went completely under, knee's poking above the surface as he ran his hands over his face and tried to get that oily feeling off before pushing at least back to his shoulders above the water. He huffed, running fingers through his hair and pushing it back, trying to handle one mess at a time as he glanced at the two bars that Gal placed by him, looking to the bosmer questioningly who pointed at the one closest to the dunmer with; "for hair," then to the one furthest, "body."

Revyn nodded his thanks, plucking it from the lip. Getting it wet seemed to activate the smell, noticing the pine quickly, and he couldn't help but laugh under his breath.

"First it's the clothing, now it's your smell," he snorted, despite lathering up his hands and running it through his hair, "next I'm being trained on how to kill dragons."

Galvorn had a distinctly beautiful laugh, especially one's like this; the edges of his eyes crinkled with mirth, smiling wide and startled but so distinctly pleased, all canines and like windchimes buried in a cave so deep it was hard to find where it ended. Revyn smiled, delighted that.. none of this felt too unbearably strange. That Galvorn wasn't acting much different after all they had just done, after he had- after all that.

It was nice that the filthy way he felt was mostly on the surface, where it could be scrubbed away.

"I find it charming," Galvorn hiccupped, smiling bright, "I rather like seeing you in things of mine."

Revyn felt warm at that, digging his fingers against his scalp to make sure he got everything before pushing his hands under the water. It was comfortable, taking his time making sure no soap got into his eyes as he moved to the next bar, when a thought occurred to him.

He cleared his throat, "You're a _liar_ , you know."

Galvorn looked briefly taken aback, considering the accusation, though Revyn's tone itself was not accusing. His brows furrowed, glancing at the dunmer a moment, confused. "Oh?" he asked, "what did I lie about?"

Revyn made a gesture with the bar of soap, the water getting sudsy as he began lathering his arms and shoulders. "What was it you told me before we got in the middle of all that?" Galvorn paused, clearly not recalling everything at the moment when Revyn dropped his voice to half-mock Galvorn's as he said, " _I could deny you nothing_."

Galvorn blinked, smiling bewildered as Revyn startled a snort from him, "and I meant that!"

"I was _denied_."

"Not _permanently_ ," Galvorn stressed with a giggle, "goodness, I would want something like that to feel good for you."

"It did feel good, but it _could_ have felt better."

Galvorn dropped his head into his hands, shoulders shaking with a laugh and Revyn was struggling and failing to fight down his own laughter when the bosmer looked at him with so much mirth, shaking his head.

"I _promise_ you that it would have been unpleasant," and he was insistent as he continued with an idle little wave by his head, "trust me, I wanted to, but going unprepared can cause damage. You were also still very tense, and well.. that's a bad combination."

Revyn scrunched his nose, relenting only a fraction, "but oil?"

Galvorn stopped a long moment, thinking, when he said, "Revyn did you.. ever have the talk with your parents?"

Revyn frowned at him, "I've.. spoken to my parents? What do you mean?

"The talk. _The_ talk."

Revyn watched him like he was trying to figure out a really complicated puzzle when he saw Galvorn's eyebrows _raise_.

"Revyn what was the education like in your village?"

The dunmer shifted a bit, not really sure where this was going. He pressed his mouth together, looking at the soap in his hands as he tried to recall something from decades ago, continuing to scrub himself when he said, "it was.. alright? Arguably not too different than what I understand is the Imperial standard." Galvorn stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle and Revyn couldn't stop himself from watching, blinking after a moment as he continued with, "We, ah, we would receive books from traveling ships that would be sent to the head family. They had a rather extensive library few were allowed access to sift through, but classes were often held there. Mostly history, mathematics." Revyn glanced back to the water, rubbing the bar over one of his legs, "I'll have you know I was considered a gifted child. I was an exceptional young scribe, and I once had an apprenticeship to study under the Family's Master Bibliothecary."

Galvorn still had his point behind his teeth though he paused, "Really? That's incredible." before adding with a nod, "although not terribly surprising, you have a rather particular manner of speech that's different than some of your neighbors."

Revyn snorted, "yes, well you're looking at the second most literate individual from a village that no longer exists." he made a short gesture towards the bosmer, "why are you asking?"

He heard Galvorn say something soft under his breath, before shaking his head like he was trying to remember what he wanted to ask, saying, "ah, well. This might seem a poor question, but was there.. _any_ form of sex education?"

Revyn mouthed the words confused, before shaking his head, nose scrunched. "Certainly not. The Family our village followed believed that teaching about it would encourage it. At most, the only time sex was ever mentioned was during our Coming of Age, to which it was expressly made clear such things were forbidden. I-" Revyn paused, thinking, "well, I know it comes up after a pair is wed." he added, "Once the ceremony is over, they are to be isolated in a room together with the seer who oversees..- uhm." he stopped, uncomfortable, "the short answer is no."

Galvorn did a fairly good job at hiding his reaction to that, though Revyn could still feel the sudden dismay that flashed across him before it got forced away. "That's.."

"Yeah." Revyn pressed his lips together, "what does this have to do with oil?"

The bosmer looked completely thrown off his point, before mutely shaking his head with a sigh, "ah, uhm. Well," he made a faint gesture to the dunmer, "when someone either does not produce a natural lubricant, or not much, you need to use oil. Keeps tearing from happening, uncomfortable friction, that sort of thing." He pulled at the ribbon in his hair, the bun coming loose to fall into a ponytail, where he pushed it over his shoulder, seeming to want something to do with his hands as he worked out some of the knots, as he spoke, "Unfortunately, I don't have any, as I haven't taken anyone to bed here and don't often do so in general." he glanced back down at the dunmer, "I am not stocked, and if this is.. well, something you would like to do again, I can make sure I have what we need in the future."

Revyn felt heat against the back of his ears; nodding a bit stupid as he tried to busy himself. "You're the one who knows how this works, so I'm trusting you."

The warmth in Gal's voice was clear, "it's a privilege."

Revyn chewed on the inside of his cheek, upturning his head a little, "you keep making it sound like it's more than one thing you need to grab."

Gal shrugged, "I'd rather simply show you when I get my hands on them. Easier to explain that way."

"Well alright-"

The cabin creaked, hearing a sharp wind hit against the wall that cut off his train of thought. The groan was unpleasant, but the cabin settled and things grew quiet once more.

"That's not going to be pleasant to walk through," Revyn noted, a bit numb. Half wondering if perhaps Galvorn would let him borrow a separate coat as his other one cannot possibly be dry just yet, when the other snorted.

"Oh? You've somewhere to be?" Revyn turned his attention back to the bosmer, who had his cheek resting lazily against the palm of his hand, elbows propped on his knees and hair that had yet to be fixed falling over his shoulders. There was a soft way he was regarding Revyn, then, who froze up a bit, unsure what was appropriate to say.

"I.. well, assumed I would need to go.. home?" he said, hands falling under the water, "I show up unannounced and it's not your responsibility to host an uninvited guest for longer than I've _already_ imposed and-"

"Unannounced does not mean unwelcome," and Galvorn sounded so thoroughly genuine it killed off whatever Revyn was trying to say, "I don't think it's possible for you to impose upon me. I like having you around, and I had assumed you would be staying the night."

Revyn felt something in his chest tighten.

Some strong mixture of hopeful uncertainty as he said, "I don't mean to come here and make you take care of me, Galvorn."

"I know," is what he said, and his eyes were half-lidded and warm, "I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to. Besides, I don't think this fully constitutes being taken care of, as it does simply being a good host who really wants to keep a guest around as long as he can." he quirked a faint smile, "I haven't seen you in over a week. Call me greedy, but I want to take up all the time you're willing to give me until you simply won't anymore."

Revyn- he didn't know how to respond to that. He'd never met someone in his life that made him so consistently speechless; so constantly at a loss because nothing ever felt like the right thing to say. He was feeling a lot of things, at that moment, and maybe it was because he was tired and had so much happen in one day, he didn't know, and wouldn't know, because the moment passed too quickly to pounce on, feeling whatever it might have been die on his lips as Galvorn pushed to stand, and Revyn felt like a coward.

"I'll grab you some clothes and get Meeko fed, you take your time and meet me in the bedroom whenever you're ready." and with that, he slipped out.

Galvorn seemed to take the air with him, as he vanished past the doorway. Took his willpower too because for a good long moment, he stared at the space he had once been, almost like he was waiting for him to come back, before realizing he was being foolish and maybe he was a fair deal more tired than he realized, shaking his thoughts away.

He didn't even understand them, it was pointless to mull over.

So, Revyn did as he was asked, and took his time.

He scrubbed and cleaned until the water wasn't warm anymore and his fingers were pruned, where then and only then did he finally slip out from the tub. He had been listening to Galvorn whistle and speak to presumably Meeko, as he rinsed out his hair and rubbed the exhaustion against his face, hearing the scratch of nails against wooden floorboards, heavy steps creaking about the cabin as Galvorn was set off doing some odd task or another.

Knowing he didn't have to go home tonight lessened this fear that had curled inside of him. Drying his hair and limbs, and that sticky oily feeling from before completely scrubbed away. Wet feet landed on the washroom floor, hands having mapped himself over, and he realized with some relief and comfort, that he didn't feel like he was lacking a part of himself, after everything. Years of being told that he would lose parts of his very spirit, feeling like a faraway fib that kept him in line for too many years. He felt whole, if not sleepy, though the ache in his chest left him wanting and he didn't understand how to fix it.

He wanted Galvorn, and he's had him now. Shouldn't that feeling have faded? Why wasn't that enough?

Mostly dried, he emerged from the bathroom with the towel covering him, the tub draining a little noisily behind as he stepped into the main chamber. With a vacant glance, he noticed all of the lanterns in here had been blown out. The fireplace still burning, though it was considerably dimmer in the room, noticing, as he stepped by, that many of the books that have been thrown about were now, for the most part, put away.

It appears as though Galvorn had tried to tidy up a bit.

He could hear movement in the bedroom, the door open, and the lights on as he approached.

Peeking through the door as he stepped in, he noticed the bed was mostly made, covers changed, and there were some clothes neatly stacked at the end of the bed. Meeko was curled up on his fur pile in the corner, ears perking up as Revyn walked in, but otherwise did not react. Galvorn was gathering some clutter and sifting through it to organize, waving his hello before setting things away to wherever they belonged. Revyn picked at the clothes, and there was a moment where he considered grabbing them and taking them into another room to change but..-

There didn't seem to be a point, anymore, before simply letting the towel drop.

He felt eyes on him, but it was fine.

It's different with Galvorn.

He noticed immediately he hadn't been given pants, but arguably Galvorn was a much larger person than he was, and there's a fair chance none would fit. Revyn began dressing, as he slipped back on his underthings, grabbing the previous yellow shirt he'd been given, and pulling it back over his head. He heard a creak in the floorboards before he felt a kiss against his temple, and a light shove to have him get in bed, which he did so without complaint.

It sort of occurred to him then, as he scooted back into the far corner, that they'd be sharing.

It was _fine_ , because of _course_ they would be sharing. That seems typical, and at this point, it's not as though he's worried about being defiled, so why couldn't they be in a bed together?

Why was his heart beating so hard?

Revyn pointedly ignored it, kicking his legs wordlessly under the covers, as the bosmer went to blow out the last lantern, keeping the door cracked so the light from the fireplace peeked in faint, before the dragonborn carefully made his way onto the bed; Revyn pulled the covers up, and it smelled nice as he felt Gal shift, the covers moving as he crawled in, and Revyn thought, perhaps, that would be it. They would fall asleep and that would be that.

He felt a hand bump his arm, and it caused him to jolt a bit. Turning his head to look at the shape of the bosmer who shifted to lay on his side, facing the dunmer.

It was a request, not a demand. Revyn knew the difference, but he still reached for the touch, and he didn't understand craving a feeling that he couldn't- do anything with. There was no end goal to the touching he wanted and it made so little sense to him.

Revyn spoke soft, "I suppose it's my turn to ask what it is you want, Gal."

He made a soft noise, voice barely above a whisper, "come here," the hand never leaving Revyn's arm, tugging light. Revyn let himself be pulled, chest tight when arms slipped around him where his cheek met chest and they- they stopped. He could hear Galvorn's heart beating away in his chest, and he didn't know if it was faster than normal or if he was just projecting, considering how half panicked he felt, and yet panic seemed too negative a word. Perhaps just adrenaline? Did that make sense? He followed Gal's lead and slipped his own arm around the others side, feeling the grip around him briefly tighten, a face pressing against the top of his head.

"Is this okay?" was muffled against his hair, and he didn't know how to vocalize that this was entirely more than okay, but feared how he'd sound if he tried. He nodded.

It was the first time Revyn fell asleep to the rhythm of someone else's breathing; wrapped up and warm and safer than he's felt in so long. His problems feeling so far away as he was held against a body, feeling decades of aches wash away with every rise and fall of another chest, hoping, sleepy, that morning may never come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have such a hard time writing sex scenes for no reason. I literally spent 2 days staring at a blank screen trying to figure out how to frame it, before I caved and went to bullet points on a few things I could do before this chapter could be written. I have so many more sex scenes to get through so; good news?? maybe by the end of this fic I'll actually know what I'm doing aajfjkjakls.
> 
> I will say it's for the best that we don't get stories from Galvorn's perspective because I guarantee the only thought he had was "!!!!!!!!!" and that makes for a short chapter.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I just want everyone to know; the world is in shambles and if you're here to get away from how bad 2020 has been to all of us then I'm glad you're here. Escapism has been really difficult to manage and maintain when needing to be active on other fronts, but I love all of you very much and I hope for your safety.
> 
> I also half edited this while on my phone at work bc I was too close to finishing it to not post it today aldjaksb thank you for reading!

The early break of dawn came with shadows, rather than sun.

Difficult to tell if it was even the morning, despite the fact it yawned its way into him, awareness seeking down his chest and into his belly that twinged uncomfortably, drowsily inhaling with his face pressed against soft pillows, heavy comforters over his shoulders like a hug. He stretched his legs, uncomfortably aware that there was a deep-seated ache churning in his stomach, and while he'd noticed more knotting up in the past few days, he had hoped to avoid a full belly ache. 

He shivered a little, hand dragging up to rest on his abdomen, pressing down because he was outrageously tense. He took a few slow breaths, brows furrowed as he inhaled slow through his nose, exhaling in beats of eight, but the throb by no means lessened; annoyed, he eventually just sighed, tucking his face against the pillow as he resigned himself to just deal with it for now because he was still so tired. His pillows smelled different, he realized a bit belated, though it was a passing thought as he tucked his fingers under them, brows pinched but his thoughts already racing towards scheduling out the day. He needed to figure out how much time he had before his store needs to open, blearily peeking up in search of the clock above his doorframe when he was met, instead, with log walls instead of stone.

Revyn froze.

Last night came flooding back like a stream under heavy rainfall, blinking as he took in the foggy grey of the morning in a place so scarcely familiar. Tired eyes dragged up along the wall, tracing the divots in the sealed wood, glancing towards the small frosted glass window above the bed, noting the half-melted white candles along the sill. Cold winds were blowing sharply against the darkened glass, and he had so little idea what time it could possibly be, but he could tell it was rather early and there is so much that requires his attention today.

An outrageous amount of responsibilities began bubbling up under the surface of his consciousness, flashing in snippets as the list elongated and grew. Things he ignored last night, situations he walked away from temporarily that he will have to waltz directly back into; he laid there, paralyzed, conversations replaying in his head, actions he's partaken in, violent outbursts and reactions and running on adrenaline and anger and spite. He wished he understood where things truly began to destabilize for him. Where he had gone so horrifically wrong in his calculations, that the perfect foundation he's cemented could so easily be pulled apart.

He needed to get up eventually. He'd been away for too long, and there was so much waiting on him to return back to his everyday. It just..- it is never going to be normal again, is it?

How does someone recover from something like this?

Revyn knows going home won't make it go away. Won't make the courtship vanish, won't make Llavrana forgive him, won't give him back the virtue that he had offered so freely the night before. It won't make the scar vanish, as it won't make him forget his awareness that the situation he's in isn't much a community as it was a bastardization of a communion.

How is he supposed to do this? How is he supposed to go home now, knowing what he knows? Having done what he's done, and what's waiting for him back behind the alleys of Windhelm's decaying walls? How is he supposed to fake that feeling of subdued content, when there is a natural disaster festering behind his ribcage, feeling stuck in a harrowing loop of helplessness and dread?

The very thought of having to leave bed to address anything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours caused his stomach to cramp up, wincing as his fingers dug just below his rib cage. He sucked in a sharp breath, cheek pressed hard against the pillow as he tried to focus on anything else. 

He tried thinking about some way to manage it in smaller doses; think about what he can do now easily, rather than continuing to overwhelm himself with the bigger picture because otherwise, he'd never leave bed. He resigned himself to focus on simply dressing, for starters; quickly figure out where his clothes are, quietly get them on. It was a simple straight forward task, and then after he can set the kettle because he needed tea. Literally anything to lessen the cramping, and he's fairly certain that he still has a stock of peppermint and ginger at.. at home.

Ah, right.

Revyn stared at the wall in front of him, pulling up his knees a little. He needed to think smaller, trying to reassure that it wasn't even a far walk, and perhaps it's still early enough that nobody was awake in the Grey Quarter. Perhaps he could get away with sneaking down the back alley where there is generally less traffic, and he could get inside his front door unnoticed. Set the kettle, drink something to settle his stomach and-

The wind howled harsh, blustering against the window glass.

Revyn looked at the glass, watching through the foggy panes the shadows of unsettled snow.

It was a fifteen-minute walk, Revyn thought, and the storm from last night has not seemed to let up. So; barely bundled up, he is going to trudge the walk back into the city-

His stomach twisted up, thinking of the guards that he'll have to cross at the main gates. Is it obvious what he was out here for? Would they be able to spot it on his skin like a smearing of ink? Would their poking and prodding have him react more guilty, and they will just know? Revyn shook at his thoughts, frowning. He will still have to deal with them, and if he just ignores them they generally cannot do much else. He's ignored them before, and simply because they might be right this time doesn't mean he should engage any more than he ever had previously. So; get dressed, trudge into the city past the storm, deal with the city guards, and hopefully sneak home unnoticed-

But what if someone _sees_ him?

Revyn pressed his lips together. That's fine. It's fine if he gets seen, he can claim he had business elsewhere and- and he has marks, on his neck.

It's fine. It's _fine_.

He'll cover it up; somehow.

 _Fifteen-minute walk_. He deals with whatever is thrown at him, he gets inside and- and he hasn't been home in over a week, and he would have to deal with his inventory, and clean up, and recheck his food stores and- would he have enough time to make tea before opening? He could set the kettle when he gets home, but he needs to also brush his teeth and change his clothes and-

Did he have time for any of this? What if he has to be open in less than a half-hour?

What if Ambarys shows up?

What if Llavrana?

What if she knows he let someone ravish him and that she's waiting for him inside his store when he gets home, and she eviscerates him on sight? What if there is a summons under his door, and she makes a public example of him and marks his shop as being owned by a whore or she-

Revyn heard something shift behind him, and he remembered very suddenly that he, in fact, did not go to bed alone.

There was a pressure against his hip, he absently realized, and it had to have been there for some time because he doesn't remember feeling anything; a knee was resting between his legs and a pressure on his back of someone pressed close, finally noticing the warmth on the back of his neck, coming in short slow bursts, his eyes fluttering half-shut with goosebumps when he realized it was breathing.

Revyn slowly straightened his arm down, hand carefully, blindly, seeking; his fingers brushed a body behind him, not sure if it was hip or side or leg, until his palm pressed and flattened. He'd been so distracted he didn't register how close his companion had been, and how very little they must have moved overnight, as Galvorn was still mostly wrapped around him; arm trapped under the dunmer's middle, hand on his waist, practically encompassing him from the side. He was warm, and the room was so quiet outside of the wind just beyond the wall, and Revyn had never felt both so comfortable and panicked at the same time.

Comfortable as he could simply turn to face him and fall back asleep without thinking twice, but panicked because the once very simple task of slipping out of bed quietly has become an insurmountable ordeal which would require him to disturb the sleeping body against him.

It would be so easy to simply wait until Galvorn woke up and slip out then, but..-

But that would mean saying goodbye. It would mean perhaps Galvorn insisting on walking him home again, and while something like that would be pleasant, Revyn still cannot be seen with him again. Being here came with risks all its own, and he couldn't play the gods any more than he has in the past week.

He has to leave alone, and he has to do it without Galvorn stirring.

Revyn was excruciatingly aware of their tangled limbs.

His stomach hurt so much.

With a huff, he tried to evaluate his options. Methods of escape, loose plans of actions; Galvorn made a soft sound in his sleep, and it completely derailed his train of thought.

Revyn had spent so many years being alone. He had spent decades upon decades of keeping to himself and cutting people out, stopping advancements before they went too far, and yet..- he couldn't force himself to want to get up and leave. His fear and nervousness of repercussions an ever-growing dilemma, but Galvorn was so much warmer and louder in bearing than the things that terrified Revyn. He was aware it was silly, he was aware that being here and curling up into a ball won't make time stop or force his issues to the borders permanently. Knows that this comfort is so dreadfully temporary, but _oh_ by Azura it's all he has right now.

Listening to Galvorn's breathing was so grounding; feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest against his back felt like safety and he couldn't even explain why. If he had been asked to describe the exact thought process that led him to the conclusion of security, he wouldn't know what to say. There was no specific reason to feel this particular way, no connecting coherent train of thought; he could argue aspects, but his thoughts were hindered by sleep and worry, that his process was scrambled right now. 

He just wanted to go back to last night. When there was time between him and whatever was going to come of today.

Go back to dopey smiles and a mouth pressing kisses along anywhere it could reach, hands trailing invisible tessellations on his skin, and he would happily die in that moment if it meant he could stay there.

That, however, isn't a possibility, and he is going to have to eventually face home again. He's going to have to do it before the sun fully rises as well, or else he's going to be forced to handle conversations and faces he doesn't have the stomach for right now. Not like yesterday, he can't do something like that again. Memories resurfacing groggily one after the next and it made him want to vomit, which, considering how tight his belly was knotted up, was becoming an ever-increasing possibility.

He would give anything, however, not to do it here.

He felt the hand against his waist move up a bit, before settling near his midriff; face seeming to press between his shoulder blades and his heart stuttered in his chest.

Galvorn possibly thinks him too much a mess already, and he doesn't want to add more to that if he can avoid it.

Revyn wasn't blind to the fact that nearly every time they've interacted since meeting, something had gone wrong one way or the next. Constantly needing to be saved, behaving ever so strangely, and fueled by fear. He didn't understand what Galvorn really even saw in him; didn't understand why he was being so patient and kind.

All the times Revyn had been saved by him, the lack of gratitude Galvorn had been given for repeatedly putting himself out there and helping so recklessly for folks that have rejected him; forbade his very presence. Of unpleasant conversations of cults, and death, and rejection; seeking company with some confused mess of a person who has no clue what they're doing or what's even going on anymore, who turned him down but sought him out uninvited and yet... Galvorn seemed content. Revyn couldn't even possibly imagine what's been going through the dragonborn's head through all of this. Couldn't even begin to understand why he is so accepting of all these obstacles and yet so eager to cling so near to someone he is still trying so hard to understand, _Azura_ knows why, because Revyn simply doesn't.

Why did Galvorn seem so relieved to see him last night? Why did he invite him in?

They're practically strangers, right? Less than a month of knowing one another, and he can't make sense of it. Can't make sense of the pit in his stomach, the adrinaline in his chest, nor-

He sighed under his breath.

Revyn has read a great many novels in his time, and there was.. there was usually some sort of obvious connecting factor that had couples eventually come together. A lot of trust had to be built, a lot of time spent and conversations had, and so many of them expand such long periods of time. He often avoided the writings that involved love-at-first-sight because it was unrealistic and he didn't believe in it. What this was, wasn't love; he should be clear. This was attraction at most, because Revyn can't and doesn't fall in love. Love was something that happened to other people, it was something that was scary and unknown and dangerous. Love was an active choice, and he was _choosing_ not to.

He's just confused, because he wants to be touched and he enjoys Galvorn's company greatly, but this wasn't anything more than simple lust. Lust wasn't dangerous, it was a manageable tangible thing he could control and that felt safe. Infatuation wasn't dangerous as long as he kept a close eye on it and trapped it in place and, besides, Revyn has been nothing but short with him. Nothing but rude, and stand-offish, and has met that kindness the dragonborn offered so freely with an ever-building wall, and who could ever fall in love with someone like that? If there was ever a danger of something more, Revyn will just have to pull back and make it clear that it can't happen. It would complicate things- well, complicate them further, and make the situation so much worse than it was already.

Make it worse in the sense that Revyn knows he can't _have_ this. He just can't.

One night together doesn't change the outcome that Revyn is _stuck_ in a courtship with someone else. Doesn't change the fact that Galvorn is _still_ destined to go off to stop the end of the world, and when he does, there is no guarantee that Revyn will ever see him again.

Once Galvorn is summoned away, why would he ever return to a place like this? When this place has only been so strange and cruel and demanding of him? That's only, of course, if he does not simply die trying against the World Eater; _assuming_ he _survives_ against the greatest calamity of this age, and yet, even _then_ , even in the wild chance that Galvorn is victorious and survives and lives in legend as the savior of Tamriel, he is still an adventurer at heart. While he may be waiting on word from the Jarl of Whiterun, there is no reason why he would settle down after. Not when he has so much to explore yet, not when Revyn saw the way Galvorn spoke about the mysteries he's unraveled and the places he's traveled; there is a yearning and love in Galvorn, and his heart will always belong to wandering. 

It's sad and unfortunate, but Revyn simply cannot follow.

He's glad that Galvorn has the chance to be free and to roam and live as he sees fit, but Revyn can't. He just can't.

He has his shop and his life in Windhelm. He has his sister and a life he spent too long building to ever walk away from. He cannot leave, it isn't practical, it isn't even an option.

Then there were the technical aspects of such a thing, because Ambarys has a legitimate claim over him by the eyes of his seer and community, no matter how upsetting it is for him to admit. That despite what Galvorn had expressed of his situation, there wasn't really any way to-to _leave_. Not when Idesa is involved, not when it's all that he's ever known. The only outcome he could see of him actually escaping the confines of Windhelm, it would only be back to Morrowind against his wishes and better judgment, and it's becoming increasingly more and more likely that he won't have a say once Ambarys has made up his mind to return.

Increasingly more and more likely that he won't be able to do anything about it, lest he outright murder Ambarys, but Revyn is by no means a killer. Less so because at the end of it all he doesn't even hate Ambarys, as he is just furious with him.

He just wished Ambarys had warned him. Wished he hadn't just let their seer drop it on his lap like a dead rodent as if it were meant to be some gift. He didn't understand what had changed so drastically for Ambarys to completely go against his wishes in such a selfish way; the kiss on the hand couldn't have been it. That _couldn't_ have been what broke the dam.

Revyn felt bleak.

While he was hopeful of breaking off the courtship once their time was through, he knew better than to rely on such a thing. Llavrana can overrule, as Revyn didn't have a legitimate guardian outside of her. Idesa was younger, and his parents were gone; it was just her say, at the end of it.

For the sake of protecting his life, he can already see himself blandly following through with whatever was expected of him. Whether he liked it or not, Ambarys is likely going to have his way when everything is said and done; Llavrana will be present, the ritual completed, and he will be bound and married and miserable.

It's just how things are.

Whatever hope he feels when he's around Galvorn can't stay, because one day he's going to be gone too, and Revyn can't keep him. Can't hope to keep him. When the day comes, and it will come, Revyn will be left with the home he has, aware of its flaws, aware of its wrongs, and that dread will be stuck in his gut because he knows it's not right, but there's nothing he can do about that. He can't leave.

He almost wished Galvorn had said nothing. Maybe it would have been easier to stomach if he felt that it was simply something all dunmer faced; maybe it would have felt less like dying that way.

Revyn sniffed, his stomach in horrific knots as he returned his thoughts to some plan of escape because whether or not he wants the day to start, it wasn't up to him. He considered how to slip out of the others grasp, considering simple actions of how to move slow as to not jostled the other awake; he made the plan, and he began to enact it.

Began, and failed, to execute.

Not when he turned to rest on his back, looking over on how to carefully move Galvorn's hand from his midriff, when that hand moved to rest on his chest, and he froze; he froze, because Galvorn felt so warm and while his stomach was in knots, there was an ache in his chest too, and he felt the extreme and sudden desire to start crying. Revyn bit down on the feeling as soon as it rose, breathing in slow as he turned his head to look at the bosmer, still dead asleep beside him.

Galvorn had his cheek squished against the pillow, mouth slightly parted, with his hair completely undone and everywhere. His face was slack, relaxed, and didn't seem to react as Revyn turned his body to face him. 

Last night continued to replay in his head. Of hands and teeth and tongue, of every huffed sound and muffled moan; there was some small part of him that almost wanted Galvorn to wake up. Almost wanted him to reach out and pull him back against him and go back to sleep. Forget the day, forget the store, and just be here. This desire to be held was beginning to be nauseating but it was an itch, and a constant one at that, as he watched the rise and fall of the dragonborn's chest, and he didn't move.

This.. this whatever it is, that they have, is not sustainable, and Revyn has to come to terms with that or he's going to find himself hurt.

Wanting Galvorn isn't enough. Having him and feeling him and being close isn't going to make this work, when Galvorn is who he is, and Revyn is just.. this. He can't expect Galvorn to give up who he is, any more than Revyn can simply give up who he is either. He can't do anything about the cult business, because Llavrana is a lot more than just speak. She's so much worse than that, and yet Revyn still- he still loves her. She's been like a grandmother to him his whole life, as long as he's behaved, she's been good to him. She's been good to _all_ of them, really. Some charming stranger that Revyn has taken a liking to can't change that; can't change the circumstance because it doesn't just affect him. Idesa is under Llavrana's influence, as is every dunmer in the Grey Quarter. His friends, people he cares for, and to pretend that he doesn't care for Llavrana would be an outright lie.

If he didn't care for her, then the things she implied wouldn't have hurt. What she had said about him getting stabbed had _hurt_ , because he does love her, because he does respect her, and cares deeply for her approval. When his parents died and he was still young, Idesa had him, but he had nobody. Llavrana gave advice, she helped them through innumerable struggles, supported each dunmer, including himself, as they got settled. She was the one who encouraged him to save like an old miser so early, as she informed him of odd jobs here and there until he had gathered enough to open a store.

To know she is capable of good as she is cruelty, is difficult to swallow. Obviously, there is a real fear of her, there has to be; the unsympathetic enforcer of rules and disciplines. Yet, knowing she's embellished doesn't mean he hates her. He doesn't know if it's possible to feel hatred towards her, as unfair and cruel as she is being, and that's the worst part.

Even if he were to somehow escape from all of this, even if he were to turn his back on her and leave; it would hurt.

The guilt he feels is immense already because despite having wanted this, despite needing to do things on his own, he feels as though he's disappointed her. He can't pretend like such a thing doesn't matter to him, because it matters so much.

Revyn had genuinely felt loved by her for so many years, and this turn was jarring for her to take, quick and harsh, unhesitating. Trying to understand it in simple swallowable amounts, trying to take Galvorn's advice, to understand what he had been trying to warn him about her, but it was hard.

Galvorn had been right about everything, but being right doesn't change his home. Doesn't change who he is fundamentally, as nice as it would be to simply see and then go. Dunmer have left over the years, some due to unrest, others for indiscretions, and indecency, among other reasons he cannot recall so early in the morning.

Faces of folks he wonders whatever happened to. Childhood friends like Teldryn who vanished one day without a word, families that slipped away and left; but there were some that walked into Greystone and never left, and that is the fate Revyn was terrified of the most.

The sort of fate he'd find himself having if he wasn't careful about this; reaching his hand forward, almost touching Galvorn's cheek, before stopping short.

While he loved Llavrana, Galvorn made him feel alive.

To think otherwise would be a disservice to himself and the wood elf, respectively.

Windhelm is..- is so bleak, the colours drained from the stones and the very people in it. Decrepit and sad and bitter, chilly winds that froze and bit at any exposed skin; but Galvorn sauntered in, and suddenly it was almost as though he carried the heat of the sun with him. The moss seemed greener when he was around, the wind was softer, and the air felt almost breathable. Windhelm felt less like a prison, and more like a city, despite the only life in it that was bustling, was him.

Revyn worried that if he got too close he'd simply melt, because Galvorn made him burn in ways he didn't understand; and he dreads leaving the aura in case he'd get so comfortable with the warmth, that the cold might actually kill him.

He has to face that cold now, no matter how much he didn't want to.

With that, he let his hand fall away. Taking his time to gently untangle himself from heavy limbs, aching for the heat of the covers as he slipped them off, the chill of the room beginning to coax him further awake. It was difficult, slipping out of bed, when the body beside him was stretched out like a cat and blocking the only exit, but Revyn could adapt and was fairly decent with getting out of situations, mostly.

A few minutes of pausing and quietly listening to his slow breathing, he was eventually able to successfully make it to the floor. The room was not nearly as dark as it had been the night before, so locating where his clothing had been set aside wasn't too difficult a task; Galvorn had folded them and set them on the top of his dresser, excluding the bloodied shirt, so as silently as he could, he let them unfold, when he felt something cold and wet touch his bare leg.

Revyn jumped, looking down startled when he saw Meeko.

He hadn't heard him approach, though the sight of him calmed his panic as he let his hand fall, scratching his head. Meeko was poking at his leg with his nose, sniffing for a moment before he slumped his way towards the cracked door, pushing at it with his nose, and slipped out. Revyn didn't think much of it, tugging his trousers on with little ceremony, hands curling under the shirt he'd been given but..- he didn't exactly have a replacement.

He looked down at the crumpled yellow thing, before tucking it in.

If Galvorn wants it back he's going to have to visit again, and Revyn was perfectly alright with making him do so.

He glanced over his shoulder at the still sleeping form of the dragonborn, and was met with the strong, inexplicable need to kiss him before he slipped off.

Was that too intimate? It felt like it was too much. Revyn couldn't keep allowing himself to try and fall into making this normal. This isn't a normal situation, they're not together, sex and kindness does not equate to a relationship that he cannot have. He bit down the urge, ignoring the uncomfortable twinge in his stomach, being reminded of how desperately he needs to go home to handle that before it grows any worse.

Revyn took one last look at Galvorn, before carefully treading out the bedroom door, thankful that it didn't creak very loud when moved, as he quietly cracked it behind him.

With a sigh, he stepped away.

The living chamber was very much in the same state as it was the previous night, excluding the fact that the fireplace was burning much lower than before. Meeko was pressed up against the stone, though his head was propped on his paws, making it no secret as he watched the dunmer step into the main area, making an aborted effort towards the closet to get his coat and shoes, before turning around and heading directly towards the dining table.

He should leave a note.

It's polite. He shouldn't just leave after something like that, nor does be want to appear rude or ungrateful, or that he hadn't enjoyed last night.

He had _very much_ enjoyed last night. That reason alone should warrent a polite but quiet goodbye.

Galvorn had a million books and it didn't take very long to find some small amount of coffee-stained paper he's sure won't be missed, hunting down some ink where there were several unopened and a few half-empty ones on top of shelves, plucking one as he carefully tried not to make a sound.

For the dragonborn, he was an awfully heavy sleeper, or perhaps Revyn was moving far quieter than he thinks he is.

He pulled the materials to the closest flat surface he could find, hunched over the table as the stools were still covered in things, and he didn't want to risk messing with it and causing anything to fall. He began scribbling out a few short messages, before crossing them out in embarrassment because it was either too formal or not formal enough, and was it appropriate to thank someone for sex? That seems sad, and he decided not to finish the sentence. Should he have started with a simple hello, or was saying 'dear dragonborn' the better option? Should he just use his name?

The quill dripped ink on the page where it hovered above, and Revyn dropped it back into the ink well as he thought over what he wanted to say.

He crumpled up the parchment and started over.

_Gal,_

_I apologize for leaving without a proper goodbye._  
_Unfortunately, I have much to deal with today that_  
_I cannot continue to ignore. I've put much of my_  
_responsibilities aside and I eventually do have to_  
_return. That being said, I enjoyed your company_  
_and would ~~love~~ ~~enjoy~~ be amicable to seeing you _  
_again. I just ask you to be discreet, as I am still not  
_ _allowed to be seen with you, my thoughts on the matter  
_ _notwithstanding. ~~I hope to - I look forwa -~~_

_As an aside, I stole your shirt. If you want that back_  
_you'll simply have to return to my shop. My hours are_  
_8 to 8 everyday. However, I am willing to accept guests  
afterhours as well, moreso if they bring distractions.  
Have a good rest of your day, dragonborn._

_~~Yours~~ _  
_~~Regar~~ _

_-Revyn S._

Revyn tapped the quill to his nose, frowing a bit, before folding it up and setting it somewhere he hoped the other would be able to see. It was good enough, and as good as it was certainly going to get, as he really needed to get going because he's wasted so much time already.

Watching his steps, he slipped back to the door, stepping quietly as he strapped up his boots and grabbed the coat Galvorn had taken back the night before, bundling up the best he could. There was a brief moment where he thought he heard something from the bedroom, but shook it off as he finished buttoning up the coat. Meeko's tail was thumping against the stone of the fireplace, as Revyn gave him a small wave goodbye, ignoring the cramp in his stomach as he tried to focus on one task at a time.

Undoing the latch on the front door, he pulled it open, greeted by a freezing gust of wind, stepping out without another sound as the door clicked shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The concept of Revyn Sadri doing the walk of shame is the funniest thing to exist to me.
> 
> A much shorter chapter this time around but bigger things are coming and after the sort of week I worry we're going to have, I'd rather have something out than nothing. Pls stay safe, and thank you so v much for reading.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I cannot believe I surpassed 100k words in a skyrim fanfic aklfjslkaj I just want to say it is so unimaginably sweet the response I've gotten to this story, and thank you so very very much to everyone for their continued support and lovely comments. It's so wild to me how many comments I've gotten pertaining to the world-building and I wasn't expecting it to be that interesting to anyone outside of me, so thank you to those who are interested and have been enjoying thus far! [and :^)) how tf did this fic surpass 1k hits like babes what hello where did yall COME from thank you omfg]]
> 
> The specific interest in Galvorn has actually changed some of this story for me because it's become clear that some of you are interested in learning who he actually is/about his backstory I've never fully shared; as a result, this fic is going to be a little longer than I was planning but that's okay. Thank you so much for your continued interest in this, and I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> [And! As an aside, I added an image of Llavrana at the bottom of chapter 7. It's a looser interpretation of how I describe her in chapter 8, but it's as close as I think I'll get.]

The layers hadn't been nearly enough to weather the storm.

The furs and layered on leathers hadn't been thick enough, warm enough, or resistant enough for the elements to not soak him completely down to the bone. Unable to stop shivering, numb, exhausted, and immensely nauseous, listening to the faint pop and crackle of his tended-to fireplace; seeking that warmth in every way except physical, unable or simply unwilling to get up and rest by the heat, regardless of how better it would make him feel. Fighting off frostbite with his hands tucked between soaked through thighs.

The melting snow pooled into his shoes, his skin clammy and frozen, fingers unfeeling as were his cheeks and nose, the tips of his ears pinpricked in mild pain as the blood was trying to rush back in.

Yet, he did nothing more than sit, half limp and uncomfortable in one of his wooden chairs, staring blankly at his cooking spit, waiting for his kettle to boil.

Revyn had no real reason not to take off the soggy clothing, the folds of the elbows and knees packed with melting snow, pulling off frosty clumps from any little crevice on his legs and the cracks of his shoes until he simply did not care anymore. Let it melt, he thought, he's already wet and cold, it's not as though it could possibly get any worse.

He thought about bathing, thought about getting the feeling of moisture off of his skin, aggressively scrub until his flesh was raw and he could feel again, but that meant scrubbing away the smell of Galvorn and he- he didn't want to yet. There was regret, in him, on not saying a proper goodbye; remorse in him that he up and left wordlessly, as though he wouldn't have given anything to still be in bed right about now. Revyn sighed inwardly, focusing on the kettle.

Yearning for something and someone he cannot have in the way he might want was not how he wanted to spend the rest of his day. He wasted so long already thinking of maybes and could-haves and silly whimsies that put him in this mess to begin with; he just needed to undress. He needed to take off the coat, in the very least.

Revyn thought about it really very hard, actually. He still didn't move.

It just..-

If he begins the process of undressing, then he might as well redress while he's at it to begin the _following_ process of addressing what all needs dealt with today, and he doesn't know when the cycle will end. Didn't know what to address first, despite forming list after elongated list as he left Galvorn's cabin, feeling so certain before, but now he can't even grasp simple vague plans now that he was face to face with it. He figures that, at least for now, if he sits perfectly still, stays bundled in thick wet clothing, and forgets about the world ever-going outside his front door, then the rest of the day would simply be put on hold for just a few minutes longer. So, he remains where he is, creating puddles under his feet, and staring blankly at the fire.

The walk home had been a great deal worse than he had originally assumed it would be.

The snow was up to his waist in some places, and so fifteen minutes became a half-hour of trudging through the thicket, pushing heavy snow until his legs burned from the exertion, but he really needed to get home and he had already traveled too far to turn back around. It got only a bit worse when he neared the road, seeing a series of guards and farmers clearing the worst of it off the travelled path, creating a murky sludge underfoot as the snow and sea set into the dirt. One of the farmers had recognized him, as he stopped to catch his breath, cheeks flushed and frozen from the sharp winds bearing down from the coast, hearing his name being shouted as he spotted a heavily bundled woman wave at him and reach the edge of the high snowbank. She pushed forward, hand extended as Revyn struggled to push through the last of it towards the road, helping him clear the rest of the way; hands-on his forearms that slipped away once Revyn was stabilized and out of the mess, before rushing off down the way with a polite smile when thanked.

Fallen trees and branches covered the roads, moving as quickly as he could, skirting around larger groups of soldiers and volunteers as the path was slowly being cleared, still fighting off the heavy snowfall and strong winds making it so much harder to get anything done.

They didn't bother him much, fortunately, as their shoes were just as soggy and their demeanor equally as miserable. Too early for it all, he had thought, as one guard directed him through some of the wreckage and walked him halfway back to the city.

No derogatory comments, no uncomfortable pauses; it was a welcome change as he was informed that the city was going under curfew for the following few days as they tried to prepare for a cold front from the sea. Winter was brewing dangerously from the north, expecting worse winds and ice rain, as the guard informed him that he should hunker down and keep his shop closed until the storm passes. Revyn had discovered the notice posted when he did eventually make it to his storefront requesting business be shut down until further notice, though no further information on how he was going to afford the tax collector if he was to be placed on some unknown hold until stated otherwise.

Talk of the stalls down in the market all sealed off and closed, the Jarl diverting efforts to keep his city from freezing to death. Homes opened up and offering spare rooms to the soldiers, the barracks filled to capacity, and the main chambers of the Palace of Kings filled to the absolute brim. The main roads startingly empty when Revyn was led inside, the soldier notably not leaving as Revyn walked home, asking quietly of the state of his food stores and firewood, to which Revyn genuinely did not have the answer to, of which the soldier expressed he would have some sent down before the worst of the storm hits.

Revyn didn't know how to take the docile way he was being handled by a Stormcloak _soldier_ of all people, but he accepted the kindness, although apprehensive, until they reached the outer edge of the Grey Quarter when the soldier clarified address and slipped away.

He supposed it was nice to be reminded that while the Jarl does no more than tolerate his dunmer population, at least he did not desire them to die.

Though it was strange; he cannot recall a storm so terrible it required such vigorous precautions to be taken. Soldiers carrying off supplies to citizen homes? All businesses to be closed until further notice? He hoped perhaps they were being overly cautious, as he trekked the final way towards his storefront, finding the notice posted as he nervously reached his front door, where he was quickly filled with relief to find the interior empty of seer or missive alike.

It wasn't empty, however, of his sister.

She'd been in the process of sorting through some bundles of firewood, undoing the twine holding it together, notably vacant of her charge, head popping up from behind the counter where she had clearly dropped something; her mouth half wrapped around some practiced response to let customers know the business was closed when they both seemed to freeze up at the sight of each other. Her surprise melted faster than Revyn's did as she pushed up from where she had been under the counter, elbows landing on the countertop.

"Ah! Good morning, I thought I forgot to lock up when I came in."

Revyn pulled the door shut behind him, hand instinctively hitting the lock as his thoughts tried their best to catch up with him.

"I'll be honest I wasn't expecting you to be here," he cleared his throat, "soldiers said everything is to be closed down."

"Would be, but I used up most of your firewood when I was here. Figured I would try and fix my own mess," she smiled, "besides, it's the weekend, I don't have Grimvar until Morndas, and the weather is atrocious." she pointedly eyed his coat, "as I'm sure you're aware, considering you look like a wet dog. I wasn't really expecting you by Morndas either, I hope you know."

"Where else would I be?" he asked, finally stepping away from the door and towards the back room. Idesa slipped around the counter, brushing the minor debris from the firewood from her palms against the front of her dress, stopping him just before the door with a squint.

"Well, as per our last little conversation, I assumed you'd be sorting it out with your friend." her hand pressed against his cheek, looking him over squarely. "I had hoped it had gone well but you seem irritable, is everything alright?"

Revyn exhaled through his nose, "unsettled stomach, mostly. I just need to sit for a moment."

It had gotten worse, walking home. Anxious about what he would find when he returned, anxious about the constant stream of soldiers surrounding him as he tried to hurry back into the city. The cold had been biting, and his muscles tense, and now that he was met with a softer wall of heat, it was settling into a nauseating pit. Faint recognition flashed over her eyes, her brows pinched as he looked over his face.

"Bellyache?" she frowned, "I'd asked what caused it but I'm sure it's miles long." she dropped her hand, stepping through the doorway to glance at the clock above it. She stepped further into the room with a gesture towards the chair against the wall, "Remind me, will you? Where do you store your tea?"

"What, didn't snoop through my cupboards?" Revyn prodded, following behind, having made to move towards the shelving behind his bed before she stopped him.

"No, you're tracking puddles, go sit. Where is it?"

"I can make it myself-"

"Revyn you look _ill_ , please?"

He inhaled, frustration bubbling up with a breath but caught it in his throat. Idesa wasn't intentionally trying to make him feel like he was some helpless infant. She was trying to help. He _recognized_ she was trying to help. Calm down.

Revyn dragged his hands to his cheeks, rubbing down, frozen half stiff as he relented with another sigh. He looked down at his hands, the skin blotchy as heat was slowly returning, letting them fall to his sides. He knows he should undress, knows he should peel off and try to fully warm up, but instead, he trudged to the nearby chair, and simply collapsed in it. His legs ached from pushing so much snow out of the way, his hands and face felt frozen and he's past shivering to a point of numbness and exhaustion. Letting his hands fold on the table surface before him where he finally dropped his head.

Eyes closed and brows furrowed, breathing through his nose as his stomach twinged; he rested his head against the back of his hands, feeling the tension between his shoulders like a weight. He heard Idesa make a sound, but her steps moved through his small living space with purpose and ease as he heard her rummaging through his shelves.

"I assume it's a good sign you didn't come home, did everything go alright?"

Revyn kept his forehead against the back of his hands, just breathing for a while. After a collection of quiet seconds, he mumbled, "It was alright."

"You don't seem enthusiastic," she noted, and Revyn could hear her step a little forward his direction before hearing something by his cooking spit. "He wasn't.. unfriendly, was he? He seemed really sweet and worried for you when we spoke last."

Revyn propped his chin in his hands, looking up and feeling nauseous immediately. He exhaled through his nose, "Oh, no, he was fine. He didn't do anything wrong. It's just been.." he trailed off. What was he even supposed to say? How does he quantify feeling as though he lost control of the direction of his life? Revyn swallowed, "ah.. a very long week," he settled on, numb, "I think it's just finally catching up to me."

"I can tell," she replied, though her voice was low and soft, almost as if unsure what to say. Revyn rarely let himself be helped, rarely allowed Idesa to be witness to his lowest moments because he didn't want her doubting his ability to care for them both. It didn't always prevent it from happening, and while he so eagerly wished he came home and found the rooms barren of life, another, much sadder part of him, was glad that of anyone to be here, it was her.

He didn't have any expectations of her support as he almost never was like this with her, but she knew about his tea, watched her pluck some herbs out of glass jars that contained his powdered ginger, gathering dried peppermint as she read the labels, snagging the marshmallow root on her way back to the fire. Made him think perhaps he hadn't been as good at hiding his bellyaches years ago, or maybe he simply just hadn't noticed her watching.

"I can't even remember the last time you got a bellyache," she prompted, though the tone in her voice was notably delicate, "I've yet to this day meet someone else who has stress manifest in this way other than you and our mother," Idesa hunched over the cooking spit as she set his kettle, setting down a small tin onto warm stone that he recognized contained some of his looser tea leaves. He watched her set the kettle on the hook, prodding at the firewood and tending to it shortly. Satisfied, she put the metal prod aside, brushing her hands down the front of her dress when she sighed, "I hate to say it but I had expected it much sooner than this. I suppose the Madame dressing you down the way she did would certainly do it, I'd have thought the butcher incident would have had you miserable."

"The only thing I was drinking was herbs, so it's unclear whether or not it actually did and I simply was unaware," his eyes fell to the table, tracing one of the divots with his pinky, "Either way, I'll be fine. It will settle. I just haven't felt this strung up in a number of years. I'm usually better at managing it when it begins to bubble but I, well." he tapped his finger against the tabletop, "bit caught off guard, is all."

"You and I both," she muttered, and while Revyn would normally be surprised at the sudden mood change, he felt it too. Idesa stared at the kettle a long while, her brows pinched and jaw set, clearly chewing on something before shaking her head with an angry huff. "I don't quite know what in the _hell's_ Ambarys was thinking, dropping something like that," she turned to look at her brother, tense. She took him in, soggy and freezing, but her posture embodied so much defensive love and fury when she eventually stepped up to the table, her palm meeting the edge of it, "he didn't inform _anyone_ he was doing this. I don't understand why the Madame didn't absolutely chew him to bone for not having the family involved in this decision. I was supposed to be informed beforehand! I was supposed to be given at _least_ the chance to speak on your behalf!"

The twinge in Revyn's belly worsened with the angry yelling, but being unwilling to stop her as she needed to get it out; he squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing, and just focused on his breathing. He was trying not to get sick, wanting to lie down, but not having even remotely the energy to begin the process to do so. Idesa waited for it to pass, Revyn blinking up at her after a collection of seconds with a frustrated sigh, noticing her knuckles almost white against the corner of the table.

"I figured you didn't know," he said after a pause, "I couldn't imagine you would keep something like that from me." a breath, then, "I..- hadn't even considered you were meant to be told."

Idesa was his last surviving member of his family, and while someone prompting a courtship was required to go to the guardians of said person, it really only boiled down to their immediate family. Of _course_ Idesa was meant to be informed, so why hadn't she been?

Idesa glanced at the kettle over her shoulder before taking the seat across from him, her movements angry and it became clear she'd been stewing on this for a while.

"He somehow avoided _all_ of the correct methods of courtship and was _still_ granted permission to proceed." Idesa spat, furious and bewildered, "Not _only_ was he supposed to at least inform _you_ that it was happening, and I understand regardless of whether or not you desired it, but he was _meant_ to talk to me first, and _yet!_ " her hands flew up, a scowl on her lips, "I just don't _understand_ how this was allowed! You weren't even awake! He told nobody! I would have assumed he lied to the Madame about whether or not he did, but she seemed _delighted_ to inform you of what transpired! Least of all how impossible it is to lie to her to begin with, so did she simply not care he hadn't spoken to me as well? She sprouts the importance of tradition until..? What? It no longer suits the situation because she was _upset_ with you?"

"I wish I knew," he grumbled in distaste, rubbing the space between his brows, "I don't think I've fully comprehended what's happened."

"This isn't fair," she snapped, "these are _her_ rules. You had _already_ been punished, excessively might I add, and on top of both aspects of it, she also revoked our involvement and say in this process." she was looking down at her hand, shaking them as though to grasp at words she was fruitlessly trying to find and say that would make any of this make sense, "This is too personal a custom for her to force in this way, and what may result in it just-" Idesa grimaced, angry when she looked Revyn over, her expression sick and half-wild. "What of the night? When the ceremony is over?"

Revyn shifted uncomfortably, hands folding together tight.

"I'm hoping that perhaps Ambarys will listen to me," he said, though disgust was festering in his stomach. "if it gets so far. I hope there's still some part of him that would want me to.. well." Revyn trailed off, uncomfortable, "I would hope," he tried again, "that he would want me to also be an enthused participant, despite-" Revyn waved a vacant hand over his head, eyes glancing to his sisters crossed arms, dread festering in his gut, "well, despite what he's already done."

"I could kill him." and Revyn hadn't seen her so angry in so long it was jarring to see it so on display; surprising as it was encouraging, he thinks, considering perhaps it wasn't so odd he had been so upset by how things played out. Seeing her fury was reassuring in knowing he hadn't been overreacting, knowing he wasn't the only one who felt this was wrong. Idesa was absolutely vibrating with her frustration, shifting in her seat and cheeks flushed, clearly trying to keep ahold of herself but struggling to do so as she said, "It would be so easy. I will face the law with the divines behind me and gleefully justify the space I've filled with his blood on my hands if it meant nothing would happen to you."

The ferocity of it startled a hiccupped sound from Revyn that he thinks was a laugh as it was a choke, smiling at her, endeared.

"If the guards came pounding against my front door attempting to find you, they'd never get past the doorframe," he jokingly made a pull-the-trigger gesture of a crossbow, fake aiming, "if you kill him, I will pack my things and we'll run. It'll be as though we never existed."

Idesa froze in her seat, looking him over seriously when she said, "I'll fucking do it. If you pack right now I'll grab a-"

Revyn felt the laughter bubble up as he raised a placating hand, "Okay hold on, maybe there's a better way."

"Revyn you have no idea how dead serious I am."

"No, the problem here is that I don't doubt you," he chuckled, hands falling back to the table, "I just don't know if I would even want Ambarys' demise, despite how angry I am with him. However, if worse comes to worst, I'd be up for returning it to the table. For now, at least, I'd like to figure out alternatives." Idesa slumped in her seat, rubbing her palms against her face, and while she was clearly vibrating in anger, a sudden frustrated laugh bubbled up.

"By Azura, I didn't get to tell you how good that punch looked, and I'm mournful I hadn't when I had the chance." her hands dropped over her belly, looking up at the ceiling before her eyes settled on her brother again, "I barely got any sleep last night. I haven't been able to stop thinking about this, and I was.." her hand did a little motion by her head, frowning in thought, "I was trying to figure out some method to get you out of it. I'm not surprised it caused a bellyache to flare up," there was a downward quirk of her lip, overthinking and struggling to find the exact thing to say, "Goodness, I forgot you even got them. They use to be so dreadful when we first came here."

"Benefits of a boring life," he replied, fingers back to the tabletop, tracing its scratch marks, "It's been a few years. I worried that the war or dragons might spur it, but strangely have been fortunate. Thought for a while perhaps I finally grew out of it."

"No, it only took you almost getting killed, your friend getting banished, and an arranged marriage for it to happen this time," she said sardonically, frowning, "this isn't _allowed_ to happen to you. It's _not_."

"I implore you to tell the Madame that, because she clearly disagree's," he pressed his palm against his cheek, propping his elbow on the table.

Idesa regarded him, sighing after a long moment, "did last night go okay, at least? Was Gal happy to see you?"

Revyn sat quietly, thinking back. He nodded, smiling tired, "Mhm. Yes, ah, he seemed to be, at least." he looked back towards the kettle, "he hugged me, asked how I was doing. We had a long lovely chat, caught up a little." Revyn sniffed, "he has a dog."

Idesa smiled, "Oh, of _course_ he does."

"His name is Meeko and he was all wrapped in bandages," he returned a glance towards his sister, "got all hurt fighting a _dragon,_ of all things."

"Must come with the territory," she chuckled, the sound faint, "you let him know about the whole being-forbidden dilemma?"

"I did," he sighed, "he took it as good as can be expected, but understood and seemed to respect we'd need to be careful."

Idesa looked him over with interest, "be careful?" she smiled, "Is _Revyn Sadri_ planning to _continue_ to outright disobey direct orders? Truly this cannot be."

"Oh, is _Revyn Sadri_ incapable of making decisions on his own?" he asked, frowning at her tone, "I hardly think this is so outlandish for me as you're implying-"

" _Daesohn,_ you are a traditionalist to your _core_." she punctuated her words by tapping her index against the table, "you are unfailingly faithful, trusting, and dedicated. I think they're admirable traits, of course, but you have always been incredibly dutiful and devout. I've never not known you to do exactly what is expected of you, if not above and beyond, if the fact you're near middle age and still refuse companionship says anything." 

Revyn shifted uncomfortably, but Idesa was- the way she worded it all was peculiar, and he couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

"Well, of course," he responded, careful, "this is all we have. This is.. this is what's left of home."

"Revyn _this_ is home," she said, though her voice was subdued, "and I am home here. I am home with you." she leaned back in her seat, "I don't like seeing my home ruined by traditions that aren't even being executed correctly. I don't like thinking you're just going to follow through with it when you can-" she cut herself off, clearly not sure what was appropriate to say.

Something clicked into place.

Revyn regarded her a very long moment, before saying, "You've known, haven't you?"

She narrowed her eyes, unsure, "you'll have to elaborate further because I'm not at liberty to say."

Revyn gave her a long look, before she blinked at him, surprised.

"You know."

"I _think_ , I do not know." he said, slow, "but I sort of understand why the Madame found Gal so very dangerous."

There was a long while where they simply stared at each other, hesitant before a smile broke out and dominated Idesa's face. She laughed, as though just processing what was said to her, the sound louder than either had expected when she snorted out, " _Ah_ , so he just went in for the kill, I see." smile wide when she said, "and here I was trying to be _tactful_ about the ordeal with you."

Tactful? He shook his head, "If you felt something was wrong why did you never say anything?"

"Revyn what did I _just_ say about you being a traditionalist?" she let her crossed arms land on the table, hands inward, leaning forward, "I've been worried you wouldn't be receptive to that sort of thing and think me blasphemous. I was.." she chewed on her words, frowning, "It's so hard to see how stable this situation was for you, if that makes sense?" At his lack of response, she elaborated, "You.. hm. You seemed comfortable, and fine, and you weren't hurting anybody nor was it really hurting you in any way that I could easily reverse, so it seemed.. it seemed fine, to leave alone." she said, though her words were growing more and more unsure as she spoke, like her reasons weren't good enough to her own ears, "Stripping you of that normalcy seemed impossible when it was just everything to you, and, for a long time, it was fine. You being here was fine."

Idesa pressed her hand out, flattening it against the tabletop, nails along the cracks, "Too much happened too fast, and you knowing wouldn't have made you leave." she glanced back up, "at the end of the day, this is home. I know you wouldn't abandon us nor leave it, and it didn't make sense to force you to reexamine your life when things were okay as they were. I didn't want to make you unhappy for no reason, I'm-" she stopped, angry, "Ambarys had to ruin everything."

Revyn watched her, following the pattern in the table she traced, when he asked, "when did you realize?"

Idesa pressed her lips together in a fine line, shifting a little in her seat. "You don't get to be mad at me."

Revyn frowned, "what?"

"If I tell you, you don't get to be _mad_."

"I won't get angry with you," he eyed her, somewhat alarmed, "should- should we wait until I drink something to settle my stomach first or..?"

Idesa looked tense but there was this uncomfortable eagerness about how she set her mouth, looking at him with a shake of her head, "you love me, don't you?"

Revyn straightened up, which was a mistake as his nausea was anything but gone, swallowing it down, his hands folded on the table.

"Obviously," he responded, slow.

"What would.." she exhaled, "is there a.. a cusp, for that?" sniffing, "what would I have to do to make you disown me?"

Confused, he sighed, "Goodness, I don't know? I don't think you're capable of doing anything that might warrant a reaction like that," he said, "You could probably kill me and I'd assume it was for a good reason."

Idesa chuckled, perhaps a little alarmed herself, though the tension that's risen in her was still tight and festering in her shoulders. Her fingers drummed over the tabletop, chewing on her words deliberately and he could practically see it against the back of her teeth trying to get through.

"Alright," she finally inhaled, her hands slipping under the table, "I sort of.. figured out something was amiss because of.. uhm, Suzy?" her mouth wrapped around the name a bit high pitched, uncomfortable, "uhm, we were.. teenagers, you know? I thought she was really pretty and we use to just.." she trailed off.

It dawned. Revyn pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, suddenly very aware of his surroundings, "Oh."

His lack of real inflection seemed to make her squirm a bit, frowning when she said, "It wasn't like a real.. ah, relationship, not really," shifting with her eyes averted, "not technically." at Revyn's lack of response after a drawn-out collection of impossibly long seconds she said, "it never came to be anything," as if it explained it, "we were just kids. We fooled around a bit and she never.. never really seemed to be interested in anything more than that, and I never pursued anything further. Sort of- sort of hard to know, when someone wants you, in that way."

The weight in the air of knowing that and knowing Susanna was gone permanently, meant that whatever resolution Idesa could have once been hoping for, was no longer a possibility. What made matters worse is that Revyn understands perfectly what she meant.

"I realized that the Madame wasn't all-seeing when I wasn't punished," Idesa looked tired, then, "she couldn't tell I was.. that there was this longing in me. I couldn't believe she didn't know when I could still clearly hear Suzy's laugh in my head, and there was still hay in my dress."

Revyn felt at such a loss.

He doesn't know how he might have reacted to this news perhaps even a week ago. How he might have felt learning that Idesa was sneaking around and recklessly endangering herself. He supposes it doesn't really matter how he might have felt then; because it wasn't then, it was now, and at this moment, he just felt incredibly sad.

Sad because Idesa never felt safe enough to express this to him sooner, sad because Susanna was gone and the devastation in Idesa from before when she came to him, had an added level that he was grasping at now. The grief in her never quite left and.. and is this what it's going to feel like?

Never really something, never technically together? Then one day they're gone and the folks they abandon are left to pick up the pieces?

She was looking at him now, almost expectant, so he reached his hand across the table and she took it.

"It's going to take a lot more than that to have me upset with you," Revyn said, and his voice was quiet and he tried to put as much warmth in it as he could muster when he felt as unwell as he did, "I'm sorry you never felt like you could come to me with this. I'm sorry you had to go through that at all."

Idesa stared at their clasped hands a very long moment and there was some relief in her expression, but it was hesitant, uncertain, looking up at him now, "You're not disappointed in me?"

Revyn felt like the very air had been knocked from him; was he really so unyielding? Had he been so cold and distant that she couldn't guarantee he'd still be there for her no matter what? How hard had he stuck to his principles that it caused his little sister not to feel safe to confide in him in this way? He looked Idesa over searchingly, and she simply looked scared.

Revyn looked at their joined hands, and came to a premature conclusion but acted on it with an uncomfortable shift.

"I'd be a bit of a hypocrite if I was disappointed in you, if that answers your question," and his chest felt tight, and he's confident he's going to vomit, but at her brows confused pinch, he tugged on the coat collar. Her eyes darted down, clearly not comprehending at first, but the double-take was visible and so _loud_ when her knee hit the underside of the table, hand clutching at Revyn's sleeve by his wrist when her other hand slapped over her mouth.

The room was still for an extended moment and Revyn felt momentary as though he'd made some mistake, before Idesa removed her hand from her mouth.

" _You?_ " she all but shouted, bright red eyes wide, staring, before a laugh began to bubble, "Oh a 'lovely chat' _indeed!_ "

"I immediately regret telling you."

" _Revyn!_ " her other hand snapped down to his wrist, half tugging. There were words on her mouth, many of them, in fact, but she kept going from one thought to the next until it spilled out as just, " _dragonborn_."

There was no way to respond to that, and even if he wanted to she wouldn't be listening as she seemed to process rapidly, "Revyn you hate relationships. _You hate them_. I have never in my life met someone so disgusted by love and lust than you. I-” she was gaping, trying to process when she looked him over wildly, "oh this complicates things, doesn't it?"

"Not anymore than it currently is already," Revyn slipped a hand down under the table, pressing his palm between his thighs, shivering when he felt the snow against the crook of his knee melt, feeling it soak. He knows it's a knee jerk to aviod talking about this further, his thoughts rapidly looking for something else to focus on or do as to not feel this situation embody him; knows he should undress, knows he should at least remove the cold layers, but for whatever reason, he didn't. His stomach knotted, Idesa's bewilderment doing anything but help, but he knows she can't help it either.

"Did he keep his mask on?" she asked and Revyn shot her a baffled look in response. Idesa only looked more and more astoudingly serious the longer he said nothing, "well did he?"

"No, he-" Revyn inhaled sharply, "this conversation took a weird turn."

"I'm asking for a reason," Idesa retorted, "and I want to know if he made you stare at-"

"He didn't," he cut in flatly, "can we please change the subject?"

Idesa's hands pat against the tabletop, almost bouncing in her seat when she said, "You know his _identity_."

"Is _that_ why you were asking-?"

"Sort of," she laughed, "though it'd be really rude to admit I would have thought it hilarious if he had." Revyn sighed blandly, though Idesa sat forward a bit more in her seat, dropping her voice to a half-whisper, "well..?"

Revyn glanced over the expectant look on her face, unsure, "well what?"

"Well," she made an abortive gesture, "who.. who is he?"

Revyn frowned a bit, "I don't think he'd appreciate me giving away his secret like that," he said, a bit quiet, "while I don't think you'd go sprouting it off left and right, it was a leap of faith for him to show me and I worry that saying out loud could put him in some danger."

"I understand that, but I am your _sister_." Revyn dropped his face between his palms with a weak laugh, looking up at her.

" _Yes_ , I'm aware."

"I'm good at putting pictures together, could you maybe like.. describe a little? Does he look as nice as he sounds?"

"Can I ask why it matters so much to you?" to which she groaned as though Revyn was being particularly difficult.

"You've _never_ brought someone home before," is what she said, cheek in her teeth as she tried to find the right words, "you've been alone in this place since we got it. I've never been witness to someone chatting you up that you didn't outright stop, but this fellow waltzes in from nowhere and you've been behaving differently." a pause, then, "a _good_ different, but still different. I care about you and I care about the sort of people you let into your life," she quickly added, "It only worries me that this person is shrouded in so much mystery and you're getting tied up into that. You don't have to tell me about the dragonborn stuff, but I do want to know a little about the person."

The problem was that; he wanted to.

There was this new and somewhat exciting thing happening with him that of _course_ he would want to talk about. Tell Idesa everything that's been going on with him, and all these things about his companion, because maybe if he did, he wouldn't feel so tense all the time. Maybe discussing and saying out loud would make all of this make sense, and he could sleep better at night knowing he wasn't alone with these thoughts. Idesa was his sister, his most trusted confidant, but this.. felt too personal. This felt different.

_Galvorn_ was different. He wasn't hiding him because he was ashamed, though neglecting the fact he had to be hidden for their own safety, but also because Galvorn clearly has so much fear about his identity getting out. He was so clearly in hiding and keeping things close to his chest, and while it could possibly truly just be about the dragonborn business, there was still some quiet chance that it wasn't. Some chance there was something else.

Revyn doesn't know, can't know, and despite this, Galvorn trusted him. At least trusts him enough to speak plainly and show his face and offer his name. Trusts him enough that he's willing to keep him overnight and share a bed and just rest, vulnerable, beside him.

Revyn so wanted to talk about how good it felt to have Galvorn swoop in when he turned off the path towards the cabin; how warm and secure he had felt surrounded by the smell of pine and a tight hold with a voice so reassuring and _relieved_ pressed against the top of his head. He wants to describe the various things Galvorn makes him feel, because it's just _so_ much, and he feels as though he will eventually burst and out will come the swarm of moths he's been forced to swallow and cage inside his chest.

There were so many things he wanted to say; but there were more reasons as to why he shouldn't.

One of the biggest issues is that, well, how well does he truly actually know Galvorn?

He knows his name, his face, his dog, where he sleeps, but.. very little else. Galvorn had unreadable books that give nothing away, a collection of strange weapons and a kind demeanor, but at the end of it, Revyn doesn't genuinely know much else. He doesn't know his parent's names, where he's from, if he was an only child or one of many; doesn't know anything that isn't surface level. Nothing more than he can put his skin to and feel, because Galvorn has given him exactly that; nothing.

It felt embarrassing, really, to admit. He let a stranger so close to him, and he cannot even tell Idesa anything more than she could probably guess on her own.

"Maybe not today," he said after a short while, "It's still too new, and besides, there's still a mountain of problems I need to address and face before I can deal with whatever happened last night."

Idesa was clearly disappointed but didn't press, to which Revyn was thankful. He didn't know what he'd tell her otherwise, and perhaps she might have been more disappointed should he admit he's a fool who behaved outlandishly with someone he couldn't even guess the favourite colour of.

The more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he became.

"Well, alright," she sighed, and her voice snapped him out of whatever train of thought he was leading down, "but you have to promise me to tell me later, okay? When you're ready?"

"I can do that," he smiled, albeit tiredly. He could try, anyway. Revyn watched as Idesa pushed up from her seat, stepping over to press a quick kiss against the top of his head.

"I just want you to know I love you," she said, regarding him seriously. Revyn glanced up, sitting back in his seat. "I'm really proud of you for trying to figure these things out on your own, but I don't ever want you to feel like you have to deal with anything alone, okay? We'll face these things together, like we always have."

"I love you too," he responded, voice light as it was vacant, "I didn't intend to overshadow what you told me, and know that I could never be disappointed in you," and he meant that. He meant it so much. "and I'm sorry that was never more clear." he reached for her hand that had pressed against his shoulder, grabbing it with; "it's always just been you and I in all of this, and even despite my own indiscretions, I would have always sided with you no matter what situation we found ourselves in." The tension in Idesa's shoulders softened, "I'm lost, on a great many of things, but my certainty has never and will never waver with you. I'm so sorry about what happened with Susanna, and I'm not blind to the fact you were very quick to latch on to any conversation change to avoid discussing it further." she shifted, "I'm glad you had what time you could with her."

"Why is it whenever I see you these days I'm either crying or going to?" she snorted, a little wet, her hip was against the edge of the table, squeezing his shoulder, "I forget sometimes how perceptive you are." she glanced towards the kettle, going quiet. Revyn watched her eyes flicker from the water trying to boil, to the cupboard, then to him once again, lip quirked.

"I remember," she began, a bit slow, "when.. I was very small, and this place was far newer to us, that if I woke up early enough to the sound of the kettle whistling, you'd make me hot cocoa and let me sit on the counter while you got the store opened."

"I had to pick you up," Revyn recounted, "you had a difficult time climbing onto it, as much as you wanted to be there."

"It made me feel like an adult," she snorted, though the sound was faint, "you were running about doing all these grown-up things, and I didn't know how to help you, but I use to think being good company would be enough."

"Use to think?" Revyn chuckled, "you were _excellent_ company, _hla'jul_. I had nobody else to point out that my potions were crooked, or that my counter was dusty. You had a very important job."

"Ah, yes," Idesa laughed, smile finally reaching her eyes, "my _big kid_ tasks."

"Until of course you'd get bored and run back into your room to go play," he let his hand fall back to his lap, "or draw, now that I think about it. I'll have you know your artwork on the wall received many compliments when you'd post them up."

"Ah yes, a true _Rythe Lythandas_ at my age," poking his shoulder before dropping her hands as well, "I also noticed you kept them," she made a funny gesture towards the counter, "in a neat little stack. Imagine my surprise when I'm down there trying to figure out where you keep your box of available jewelry, to find dozens of scribbled-on pages all nicely bound up."

"You not wanting them up anymore did not mean they were getting thrown out," he replied, "and Rythe would only be so lucky as to be compared to the masterpieces of your adolescence."

"You're a _sap_ ," her palm pressed against her cheek, fond as she laughed, "goodness I miss being here. I'm so glad you're finally home and doing somewhat better," she brushed her hands down the front of her dress, before sighing a little loud, the moment passing. Straightening up as she said, "you should get out of that, or you'll catch your death. I'll be right back."

Revyn watched her snag her own coat off the back of the chair, confused, "where are you going?"

"Home," she responded, "you have love bites and I have something that can cover it up until they go away, and-" she slipped her hand through the sleeves, looking at Revyn amused, "please don't let him leave marks you can't hide, next time, okay?"

Heat flooded Revyn cheeks, frowning but nodding as she pulled at the lapels of her coat.

"Good," she stepped aside, "the lockdown means your schedule is clear and so is mine, and maybe we can finally have that breakfast I promised well over a week ago. I'll go grab my things, please get warmed up."

Revyn waved her off, leaning forward in his seat again as he planted his elbows back on the table's surface. He heard her steps retreat, the faint creek of his front door swinging open, followed shortly by a firm click as she shut it behind; the shop now quiet.

Revyn took the moment to finally breathe.

He hadn't.. well, been expecting to admit nor discuss the night before at any length, but Idesa was often incredibly well versed at catching him fully off guard, so he shouldn't be so terribly surprised.

Back to the moment, snow pooling and soaking him, unable to stop shivering but the cold feeling almost good for the twist in his abdomen, and just unable to force himself to pull free of it. Soggy but it smells like _him_ , and he was just waiting at this point for the kettle to finish so that maybe he could face the day; although the idea of spending the morning with Idesa sounded lovely, as it was much needed, hopeful and looking forward to a hopefully less eventful evening.

He heard the whistle begin, slow at first as he pushed to his feet, finally shaking what was left of the snow off of himself, only to mournfully look at the dirty puddles he's created out of his own negligence. He took some time, pulling the kettle from the heat, shucking himself slowly of the ever melting layers and hanging them up to dry, his boots back to the door as he stripped down to almost nothing, a towel soaked from cleaning his tracks and dumped in his laundry basket.

Leaves now steeping in hot water as he tiredly picked through his clothes, trying to find anything that might obscure his collar as he let the warmth of the room finally seep against him.

All this trouble over a few mindless little moments.

Difficult to feel upset or even bothered by something that had felt so good at the time.

Does he really not own any high collared shirts?

He tugged at the yellow shirt he'd draped over the back headboard of his bed, still mostly dry, but the collar and bottom were all soggy, and he wasn't trying to take something of Galvorn's only to return it in worse condition than he had received it. Sighing inwardly, he swallowed the rise of _something_ that kept trying to fester in his chest, and simply began dressing in just something presentable, grabbing a jacket from his wardrobe and tugging it on to try and cover up the bruising when he heard the front door open again.

Idesa came back a little sooner than expected, he thought, stepping back over to the table to check if his tea was fully steeped so he could hopefully deal with the pain in his belly, as he heard her footsteps approach. Glancing at the floor one last time to make sure everything was all dry and back to normal as he moved to sit, glancing up with, "so what exactly did you-"

That's not Idesa.

"We need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder because it's come to my attention some of you may not know; I do have a twitter where I post drawings of these two that don't usually make it into a fic. I work full time which slows my writing down a lot more than I'm happy with, but I try and post drawings based around my canon for these two to sort of make up for it. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Translations:
> 
> hla'jul: baby  
>  daesohn: brother


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: so, a little life update!! I had applied to this big company over a month ago, got the interview, and received a call that I got the job!! It pays several dollars more than my current one and maybe now my fiance and I can start saving back for our wedding and I am!! So excited!! :"^D This year had been awful, and when I had started writing these fics with Gal and Revyn I had been going through a low, we scraped by, and writing these stories really helped me cope and escape for a while. I'm really excited that things are actually looking up for once, and I just want to thank everyone once again for your interest and support with my writing, it really really means a lot and I'm happy you're here.
> 
> And, as always, I apologize for any major mistakes!
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Revyn felt his stomach drop further but was quick to swallow that moment of uncomfortable surprise, twisting it into irritation. Setting his jaw, he glared sharply, continuing into his seat with the mug burning between his palms with an aggravated sigh.

"Could have knocked, you know."

"Door was unlocked," Ambarys was bundled up and it was unclear how long he had been outside deliberating whether or not to approach, but there was snow clinging to the outer leather of his coat, and a bit of murky sludge on his boots that trailed in with him, "this was too urgent to wait."

"I disagree," Revyn stated, dismissive. He averted his eyes away, trying not to focus on the man making puddles in his living chamber doorway, hoping that maybe if he ignored the issue altogether that Ambarys will eventually get the hint and simply leave. His timing couldn't have been worse, as Revyn watched the steam waft up in a warm cloud from between his palms, rolling and dissipating above the mug as he debated if it was worth burning his mouth. He felt _immensely_ unwell, could feel it rising like bile in his throat, his emotions having been dragged from too many extremes too quickly, and he couldn't handle much more in such a short amount of time without completely splitting at the seams. Instead, he propped his elbow on the table, tiredly pressing his cheek against his palm with a shaky sigh. "Ambarys I genuinely don't have it in me to deal with you right now, please just leave."

"I can't do that-"

"You being incapable of respecting what I have to say is no surprise but if you don't leave my shop I swear to-"

"I don't have a lot of time, Sadri, and I'm trying to apologize."

Revyn pinched the bridge of his nose, irritation bubbling, "It's too little too late. You apologized. Now leave."

Ambarys made a frustrated sound, stepping closer to the table. The sound of his wet boots hitting the floorboards was unpleasant and Revyn could only feel himself growing more flustered and overwhelmed as he is repeatedly reminded that he isn't, and hasn't been, in control of this situation, "Look, I know you're angry with me, and I understand that. I've been - I've been rude and-and disrespectful and I-I need you t'listen. If you give me a minute to explain myself, I promise I'll go."

"You did explain yourself," Revyn looked up at him sharply, "you made yourself _perfectly_ clear last night, and I don't-" Revyn blinked, looking a bit beyond Ambarys and realized a bit belatedly that he was alone. Ambarys must have picked up on the fact that Revyn was clearly looking, the implications that they're not supposed to be alone together rather thick in the air, as Ambarys shifted a bit uncomfortably.

"It's jus' me," he said, "The mistress in teachin' one of her lessons right now, and won't overhear us. I needed t'see you and I needed room to say what I gotta say without anyone present." he looked at Revyn a bit sideways as he said, "I also didn't tell anybody I was comin'."

Revyn rubbed between his brows, exasperated, "Great," his shoulders slumped, "I completely forgot that our customs evidently only apply to me."

"No, it's..-" Ambarys brought his hands up to grip at the lapels near his stomach, fingers curling in. "This needed privacy. I figured you wouldn't want an audience and I really didn't want one either." a breath, then, "I.. I should have told you, about the courtship, before the mistress did. I had all that time to explain what happened when you were bedridden, an' I didn't, an' I'm- I'm sorry. That was wrong."

"There's a lot more wrong with this than just you not telling me," Revyn inhaled sharp, swallowing a bit thickly, his mouth feeling full of saliva and he isn't positive he wasn't going to throw up. He pressed his fingertips close to the lip of the mug, but the steam was still too hot. He was close to not caring. "Goodness, what with your gross need to watch me, the fact you reported to our Mistress that someone kissed my hand and-"

"I didn't," Ambarys cut in, insistent, "I wouldn't do that to you-"

"You wouldn't report me, but you would invoke a courtship?" Revyn snapped, incredulous, "Don't come into my home uninvited and then _lie_ to me-"

"I never told her," he insisted, and his tone was serious and unwavering, even as Revyn eyed him, doubtful, "My..- my jealousy aside, I never went to her about anything. What I saw I kept to myself."

"Then why don't I believe you?" Revyn narrowed his eyes, "you had sounded so _vindicated_ last night, what changed?"

"Nothing changed, it's.." he pressed his lips together, a chilled hand reaching up to brush back the loose red hair falling into his face, his short ponytail a bit loose but unwilling to take the time to fix it. "I wanted to talk t'you, I did. I wasn't.. I wasn't clear, yesterday. I reacted angrily when you knocked me, and I - that's not what I wanted to say. I knew you were gonna be upset with me but I still wasn't ready for it."

"That sounds like a _you_ problem."

"It's an _us_ problem, right now."

"Can you _please_ just go away," Revyns' fingers curled against the base of the mug, averting his eyes towards the fire. The ceramic burned, but it wasn't unbearable as it was something to focus on, lest he actually vomits. "You've done enough and being around you is nauseating."

"Bellyache?"

"Oh, don't act as though you care," Revyn snapped. "Just _go_."

Ambarys stood quietly a long moment, long enough that Revyn hoped he might take his silence as demand enough and just do as he asked. Instead, the other sighed.

"I'll leave, just-" he seemed to take a breath, the floorboards under his feet creaking faintly as he shifted, "I just want you to know that it wasn't- it ain't what you think. I didn't jus'- just put you in this situation out of disrespect of you. That ain't true. There are few folks I respect more than I do you, and I didn't just accept our Mistress's ask because you wouldn't be able to tell me no. I wouldn't have done it at all if I wasn't worried about what she was gonna do, and I'm - I-I I don't know how to say this because I'm not- I'm not great with words. I'm not great with explaining myself but I need you to know I didn't do this because I felt like I deserved you, or that I wanted to put you in a position you weren't ready for."

Revyn didn't look up. 

Some small part of him was just waiting for Idesa to step through the front door, wondering what was taking her so long and so he could be done with this. The very same part of him that didn't want to give Ambarys a chance to clear his conscience. To justify his way out of the dreadful chokehold he's put Revyn into, and yet; Revyn, in a much louder way, wanted to know why.

He didn't know if it was his outrage or his need to fully understand every given thing at his feet in order to handle it. Didn't know if it was just morbid curiosity, but he was listening.

Ambarys didn't _deserve_ an audience of him, and yet-

"You're saying very little and my patience is thin with you," he brought the mug to his mouth, the overpowering smell of mint hitting his nose when he took a sip. It burnt him, but he caught the flinch, blowing on the steam with an annoyed sigh, "you have until Idesa returns before I have her throw you out as I can't be bothered."

It wasn't quite a white flag, but it was enough. Ambarys accepted it regardless, wordlessly moving towards the parallel seat where Idesa had previously been sitting, creaking faintly under his weight. 

"I'll try and be quick," he expressed, hands racing down the front of his coat, almost nervous, "I gotta be down in Greystone in less than a half-hour concernin' the courtship. I don't need to explain that me involkin' puts more responsibility on me than it would you, but I'm supposed to make decisions without your say and I've already overstepped and I need-" he pressed his lips together, chewing hard before saying, "I need to fix this before I do any more damage." Ambarys looked at Revyn firmly, "last night has been eatin' at me. All this past week if I'm to be honest with you, and I'm.. ashamed of how I acted. Ashamed that I couldn't even face you or tell you what I did and I'm so- so sorry you found out the way you did but I..- It's more than just that. She didn't tell you everything, and I didn't either and I'm sure she'll be mad as all hell if I tell you but I need you to know there wasn't a choice in this. Not for me."

"Oh so you show up to tell me _you_ got roped into a courtship, is that it?" Revyn's mouth burned with every sip, but he really needed it, swallowing when he said, "you, who has been threatening me with it for more years than I care to count, somehow _also_ got forced into a situation despite wanting to be in it? You're a terrible liar."

"No, I-" Ambarys made a sound, "I didn't _approach_ her for this. She knows I've been sweet on you for a long time, and this was- this is the cleanest option she gave me, so _yes_ , I took it."

Options? Revyn scrunching up his face angrily, "What is that _even_ supposed to mean?"

"It means it was either _I_ began a courtship and you were banned from your tall friend, or she was going to take your bleedin'-out body back to her Chambers and there was a high chance we were never gonna see you again."

Revyn froze, falling quiet.

He didn't even realize he had stopped breathing until his lungs began to burn, and bile was rising in his throat that he barely swallowed down.

That can't be right.

He set down the mug, the liquid inside shaking.

"I don't understand."

Revyn finally looked up, catching Ambarys eyes, but his companion didn't say anything for a long while. Revyn eyed him, searchingly, trying to figure out what he was implying and why he was implying it, but everything he discovered led him to the same answer. He exhaled shakily, head shaking, when he said, "I hadn't _done_ anything, Ambarys," not then, not really, not that she knew of, "you must have been reading too deeply into something and frightened yourself. She wouldn't have done that. I have given her no reason to - to do that. Talking to an outsider isn't a good enough reason to..-" Revyn trailed off.

No, he was right, it didn't make sense. Ambarys was wrong.

So why did he feel so unnerved?

Ambarys sniffed, shifting in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Revyn felt cold at the lost expression he seemed to be wearing.

It couldn't have been so serious to her. This felt like one overreaction after the next and there had to be something he was missing. Something she must know that he simply didn't; something that was causing her to react so violently and unforgiving that he was struggling to grasp because the more he learns, the less simple this all felt.

Some piece of this puzzle was missing, he was sure of it, but he was lost on what it could possibly be. What her goals were in all of this; what she gained or kept by doing this, or what it would have been if certain implications had come to fruition. He didn't understand. He didn't know what he was doing so _wrong_ to make her so angry with him, didn't understand how he had failed her so much to make her so cold and cruel and disappointed in him, and it just made his skin crawl with guilt and shame that he couldn't swallow. Couldn't force it down like a bitter pill, stuck dissolving against the back of his tongue.

"You don't gotta believe me," Ambarys said, his voice chipped as his words rushed out, "I don't know why it got so far. Taliesin handed off some scrap of paper out of your coat pocket to Awen and before I knew it our Mistress was storming down the stairs. Taliesin had you in another room trying to fix you up and she saw me waiting there, and she was jus-" he breathed, "she-she had her staff, with her. The black one."

Revyn didn't say anything, allowing Ambarys to continue uninterrupted as he said, "Somethin' was wrong. I don't know. I didn't know what she was gonna do or what was happenin' but she- she made some comments about you. More trouble than you were worth, shit like that. I don't know where it all came from, but she seemed to think you were gettin' involved with that new fella behind her back, completely convinced of it, actually, and she was ready to-to 'deal with the problem' as needed, s'what she said, but she saw me and told me to leave because I wasn't supposed to be there. I- I argued with her," something in him tightened, his expression grim and uncomfortable as he spoke, "It was real fuckin' stupid of me, but I did it. She wasn't even upset with me, even told me she found it sad she didn't think you'd do the same for me, which I ain't believe, mind you. Told me that I had a chance to stop her approach to where you and Taliesin were, that if I cared so much to interfere that I clearly care enough to take you on as my responsibility."

Ambarys exhaled, tongue against the back of his teeth, looking anywhere than at Revyn at this point, cheeks dark and body tense, "She said she didn't think you could be trusted to choose for yourself. You were being blinded and seduced by an outside force, and she was willing to give you one last chance, if she believed I felt you deserved it. There wasn't a _choice_ there, Revyn. There wasn't some-" he swallowed almost loud, clearing his throat, "some other option. I didn't know what else to do. I wasn't going to lose you over this. Over whatever she believed you were doin'."

Revyn was staring at his mug, unwell, "I just feel like you're embellishing," he said, distastefully, "I could have _reasoned_ with her. I could have-"

"Look I don' know if she was willing to wait for you to wake up, why would I take that chance?"

"There was _nothing else_ you could have done?" he spat back angrily, "you cannot convince me that her _only_ compromise for my possible well being was a _courtship_. Do you understand how foolish you sound?"

"I don't need you to believe me-"

"And I _didn't need_ you to look after me-!"

"What did you _want me_ to do, Revyn?" he shouted, "I'm _sorry_ that my method of getting you out of harm's way wasn't good enough for you, but it _worked_." he made an angry sweeping gesture about them, "I'm sorry that I wasn't thinking straight because my best friend was bleedin' out and dying one room away from me, and someone who could just let you die, waltzed in all furious and I _panicked_ , okay? I - I said things and did what I could and _yes_ , I agreed to the first thing suggested because I had no way of knowing if that was all she was willing to give."

Revyn closed his jaw, chewing on the inside of his cheek before his eyes dropped down to his mug.

Ambarys' voice dropped lower, his voice coming out with an exhale as the tension in him blew out with it, "I meant what I said last night," Revyn sighed under his breath at that, pulling his cup back to his mouth and drinking. When he stopped he kept it hovered there, elbows resting on the table surface, hands wrapped around the ceramic with his mouth pressed against the lip, half resting and unresponsive. "Most of it, anyway," Ambarys added, a little quieter, "I was.. I said some things that were a lot worse than I meant, and I - I am sorry. Your right hook is fuckin' mean, and I got worked up."

Revyn sniffed, looking pointedly at the other's nose, "I'm not apologizing for that."

"I don't want you to," his hand went up by his jaw, scratching the faint stubble underneath when he said, "I just want- I want to talk this out. I hate thinkin' you can't stand the sight of me, or feel like you have to avoid me outside of our visits to the Mistress. I want you to feel comfortable comin' back to the Cornerclub and we- we ain't have to talk about this if you don't want to. We can act and behave like normal. Talk about whatever, or you just work on your ledger there and I leave it be. I don't care. I just- I didn't want to push you further away and I..- I fucked that. I know I did and I'm sorry."

Revyn watched him a long moment, setting his mug back down against the tabletop. His stomach hasn't settled, but the ache was ebbing away and that was, at least, something.

He just- he didn't know what to say.

His anger was anything but gone, but context intermixed unpleasantly with guilt.

Revyn _wanted_ to lash out. He wanted to fight and scream and make Ambarys feel the same level of helplessness he himself had been forced to swallow, and he just..- can't. Ambarys _has_ to be embellishing somewhat because for all of it to be pure-good-unselfish intent simply wasn't true. Ambarys can say what he wants, but Revyn wasn't foolish. Jealousy was there, loud, prominent, and unmistakable. Someone else being sweet on him had caused Ambarys to get impulsive and a little reckless, and Revyn knew there was a small amount of entitlement he's certain was involved in the mess; Ambarys had been happy to be rid of the dragonborn from Revyn's life, and to think otherwise was ridiculous.

Llavrana playing on Ambarys feelings was obvious as well, if what he said happened to be true. Yet, it still only added more questions than it answered.

It was such a sloppy situation altogether, Revyn took in with an inward sigh. Messy and uncomfortable, because despite his grievances and his anger, it's incredibly likely that Ambarys' interference is truly the one thing that allowed today to come.

The only reason he might still be alive.

He couldn't stop thinking about the staff either.

It was a.. an inky black orb, wrapped up in some twisted metal like a tree trunks overgrowth around it. It had been notably absent when he was called down the day before to speak with her, as its presence indicated a dark omen.

Disappearances and deaths. Bodies robbed of spirit and soul, left to rot, dishonoured in death.

There were rumours of what sort of staff it truly was, if it was the cause of death, or simply received the results of it, but to be brave enough to venture or ask was foolish, and a guarantee to find out.

If Llavrana had descended like a storm with it in hand, he's not sure if he would have done much better in Ambarys' case, should the roles have been reversed. What sort of horrific thing could have happened if Ambarys hadn't stood his ground and spoke up, even if the result was undesirable, even if his intent wasn't wholly unselfish.

It was.. just so hard to feel grateful when he was just so wholly unhappy.

"I just..-" he tried, and he was so exhausted of his words failing him, "I don't think I have it in me to give you the sort of.. of response I think you're looking for." he looked up briefly, but looking at Ambarys was too uncomfortable to do for too long, eyes dropping over to the firepit. "I'm thankful I'm alive, but I would give anything to not have to go through with this."

"It's not so terrible as you're making it out to be."

Revyn breathed in, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling as he swallowed down the sudden flush of anger he felt. Sure, not as terrible as _death_ , he supposed, though it was comparable, "I told you that I was sorting things out for myself," he muttered instead, "I told you how now wasn't a good time-"

"You told me _never_ would be a good time."

"Oh good, you remembered, and it _still_ didn't matter," Revyn shook his head, "I don't know how you _want_ me to feel, Ambarys," he looked at the other dunmer squarely, "I don't understand how I'm meant to feel thankful that while my life wasn't ended, it was rather given away, and I wasn't even made aware of either for more than a week." his hand came up, brushing against his cheek, feeling returning almost entirely, flustered and frustrated, "that it didn't matter how an outcome of never having the right to tell you _no_ was horrific to me, that it has never and will never be as simple as marriage when the rites require your hands all over me in places they don't belong, and I am not to complain or argue. Not to have a final say when you ultimately decide we must leave and I can't take Idesa with me. I can't even take this place that I built and bled decades over to create. It's not a partnership, it's _ownership_ , and I wish you would stop pretending it was anything different."

Ambarys looked stricken, "it wouldn't- it doesn't have to be that way." he sounded earnest and sincere and Revyn wanted to believe it, because of _course_ he did. It would be nice to believe firmly that if he insisted he didn't want something or desired something else that he would be listened to and respected. That of all people who would do that for him, would be the person with whom he'd been almost inseparable from since childhood.

He thinks knowing that and knowing how closely Ambarys understood these feelings in him, stung; there was trust there, decades of history between the both of them, and it just feels like all that genuine love and dedication they had given each other over the years meant nothing. Revyn understood it wasn't so simple, and if he had time to sit and think on this critically and process what had happened, perhaps he would have been a lot more receptive to what he was being told, but Ambarys chose _the day after_ to pick at an open wound, and Revyn hadn't been ready for it.

Revyn doesn't exactly know how Ambarys saw this conversation going, but clearly, this wasn't much a direction he had expected, grasping for words as he was.

There was a breath, then; "Look.. technically, yeah. In the eyes of the Mistress and our peers, that's what it is, but it don't have to..- _t'be_ that way between us. I _know_ you, and I care for you, and I- I want more out of this. I want to make you happier, I don't want you to feel as though you can't tell me no."

"But what if we're fighting?" Revyn prompted, looking him over blandly, "will it matter then? If we're angry and I'm being disrespectful towards you, will you think of it then? Will it matter if you can simply silence me with a word, because I will _belong_ to you, and at the end of the day, no matter what we pretend, that will never change? Why would I want that?" When Ambarys didn't respond, Revyn rubbed the space between his brows, crossing his arms tiredly, "You have been _so_ caught up in what you want and how you want to do it, that while you saw me in your future, I have never seen you in mine. Not like this."

Not when there was once a sliver of a chance for something else; someone else.

Maybe if things had been different, if things had waited and Idesa's contract came up and Revyn could move freely, maybe he would have left. He doesn't know. There was no saying whether he would have ran away with Galvorn, considering the dragonborn's own fate was so full of unknowns, but Revyn could have taken Idesa and they could have run. Left all this behind like others before them. Yet, courtship is _binding_ in ways he wouldn't be able to avoid before Idesa's time comes; rites that will bleed into his skin, connect him with someone else so fully he doesn't know if leaving will be enough to break it. Not without help from someone with equal power to the person who would embed it, and such a notion was harrowing.

Assuming he would have been able to leave on his own in the first place; assuming he could have ever had the strength or willpower.

It all felt so bleak now.

Ambarys looked struck, pushing when he said, "you don't mean that-"

“I do! I do mean that!" Revyn snapped, frustrated. He was frayed on all edges, cracking and furious because none of this mattered. It didn't matter, and it was just easier to be angry than it was to consistently digest being told how he was supposed to feel, spitting out, "I don’t _know_ what I want, but I don’t want you!”

"Revyn," Ambarys said, a mixture of exasperated and desperate, looking at the dunmer across the table pleadingly, " _I know_. I know. This isn't- I know this isn't what you wanted. I have no delusions about that. I know if you had the final say you'd stay a bachelor until you expired, and I- I understood that. I didn't understand _why_ , but I at least understood that's where you were comin' from." he sniffed, making a pointed sweeping look about the back room, "I know that you like your space, and I know that your- your... hm," he pressed his lips together, "your independence," he found the word, "I know you value your independence, and didn't want help or nobody screwin' that up for you. I admire the hell outta you for it. I admire that you can do these things on your own and I respect that you wanted to. I know you.. not wanting a relationship with me wasn't personal. I know you don't hate me, and that I don't disgust you, I believed you when you told me that ages ago and I still believe you now, but I know I still wasn't what you wanted and I was- I've _been_ fine with it."

Revyn had his arms crossed over his chest, leaned back in his seat, and looking grimly at his half-empty mug. Ambarys briefly waited to see if he would eventually say something, but when nothing came, he continued.

"I-" he sniffed, and while uncertainty was clearly gripping him, he seemed to push through, as uncomfortable a conversation it has proven itself to be. They both knew it was coming, but Revyn had hoped to all hope he wouldn't have to do it today. Had hoped he had time between the night before and now to at least clear his messy thoughts; at the very least get the smell of Galvorn off of his skin before looking Ambarys in the eye.

No such luck, sitting impossibly aware of how precarious the neck covering was from changing this conversation into something significantly worse.

Ambarys kept chewing on his words, none of them being what he wanted, none of them feeling as though it was enough as each new sentence began, and died, behind his teeth. There was a sigh, another one, a few breaths of inaction and silence that were followed by a quiet huff of resignation.

"Revyn I've.." he breathed, and it was farther than he meant to go because he seemed to rethink it as soon as he began saying it, but gave up and went with, "I've.. been in love with you for a very long time."

Revyn didn't look up when he said, "I've been very aware of it for possibly just as long, Ambarys. We don't need to discuss it."

"We do," he insisted, though his voice wasn't as pleading as it was reluctant. "I think this has been a long time coming."

"I think you making your feelings my problem has been a consistent headache," Revyn snapped, "I think you've spent such a long time obsessing over the idea of me, you never stopped to realize I'm not this idealized version that you can have tag along when you eventually return to Morrowind."

"It's not like that-"

"It's exactly like that."

"No, it's-" Ambarys exhaled sharply through his nose, "I've loved you before all of this," he made some vague gesture about the room before it waved somewhat in Revyn's direction, "before the eruption. Before Skyrim. Before you cut your hair and your voice hardened. When we were teenagers and you use to steal your da's matches before running off with me towards the coast where the older kids use to play music."

Revyn's tense shoulders didn't relax, but the pressure between his brows did.

"We use to light some of the candles," he said after a moment, not looking at Ambarys directly, "we always ran out so quickly because I never brought enough."

"None of us were all that good at starting a fire," Ambarys responded, sounding far away, "they always grabbed wet debris from crashed ships. Real useless to have a good fire going."

"Not like we knew any better," Revyn breathed, "I still remember some of the songs we use to play and dance to."

Ambarys leaned a bit further in his seat, "this is what I'm talkin' about," he said, a bit quiet, "I don't want to be with you because I- I find you useful to me, you know. Like- it's- it's never been about your business. It's never been about some need to get between your legs, or money, or- or any of that. I can't pretend I'm not somewhat grateful that despite the circumstances, I have this chance to prove myself to you the way I've been wanting to after all this time."

"Ambarys you cannot base your idea of me from- from before." Revyn shot back, though the venom was missing, "I was a child then. Yes, we got into some fun on the coast but you shouldn't- there is no reason to latch onto nostalgic feelings of life before, to base an entire relationship on. I'm not that child anymore, and neither are you. I'm not.. them. I haven't been them in years." he settled, "we both had to grow up. I can't just take time out of my day like I could back then to dedicate to a relationship like this. Truthfully, neither should you, considering you technically work worse hours than I do. We're busy people, this wasn't- this isn't good for us."

"Look I'm not askin' you to rework your schedule for this, I know you got a lot on your plate as is," he began, though his voice was much softer than it had been since he got here, "I'm just askin' you to.. give this a chance. I don't expect you to fall in love with me, I'm not askin' you to pretend or- or nothin' just..-" he tilted his head a bit, arms crossing over the table top, "just.. give me a chance to make it up to you, that's all I'm askin'."

Revyn pressed his lips together, regarding him a moment. He picked up his mug again, examining the contents when he said, "I make no promises, my grievances standing, but I can... behave."

There was a breath, then, "Alright, well, that's a start at least."

Revyn sniffed, "well, then you should probably get going," he glanced over his shoulder towards the doorway that led to the main shop, "Idesa should be back soon and while I may behave, she won't."

Ambarys gave a short nod, pushing to stand. He brushed his hands down the front of his coat, now somewhat soggy from the melted snow, making to leave when he stopped a moment, turning to look at Revyn as he said, "You'll probably ah, get a missive within the next few days from the Madame. Idesa probably won't be allowed to chaperone, so you'll have to be assigned someone, but also jus'.. keep warm? If you get low on food you can always come by. Next few days seem like they're gonna quickly get bad, and I have plenty of stock of firewood if you need some."

Revyn glanced over at him with a short nod, dismissive, "same goes for you."

Ambarys stood another moment longer, clearly wanting to say more, but whatever it was died behind his teeth and was replaced with a soft, "alright." before slipping off. Revyn heard the front door open, a sharp wind howling into the front of his shop, before the door clicked shut once again. Revyn sat there a long while, just staring into the fire.

xxx

The snow came in like a hurricane from the north; the sky full of thick dark clouds, where midday appeared as midnight, with visibility scarce as sheets of heavy snow came down like a fog. 

Violent wind thrashed from the coast, the sea flooding the docks and crashing against the thankfully high walls of the city, coating the stone in an ever-thickening layer of ice. The streets were unpassable, homefronts becoming buried in hardened snow that was near impossible to shovel through if not removed quickly enough.

The first day came and went mostly well. The guard that had led Revyn home, returned with a few others, handing out bundled wood and a potato sack full of other small goods as they traveled door to door to make sure everyone was stocked, bringing what little news they had of what they were expecting with the worsening weather. Idesa had answered the door then, as Revyn had been busy getting dinner started for the pair of them, walking around the bedroll she brought along with her to stay the night. She returned with another fair bundle of firewood under her arm and the potato sack, placing the wood away, before dropping the sack on the table as she pushed aside the scattered mugs and plates they've yet to clean, to see what was inside.

General goods, she noted, mostly things that would not rot quickly and were sustainable for storing long term, which Idesa chuckled at, making comment that 'well, it's just a storm, it can only last so long,' as she began pulling one thing after the next and putting things away as needed, where the rest of their shared day ended quietly.

The storm did not let up.

Two days passed, then three, and there were no signs of parting light from the sky. Word was coming from further west that it was hitting the entire coast, inner cities becoming slammed in a sheet of ice and hale; worries about the damage it may have in the fields, and fortunate it was late enough in the season that most had well been harvested by now, but certainly not all. Smaller farmlands covered in a heavy blanket of snow, rushing to get livestock out of the conditions but the damage wasn't lessening.

News came of Calixto's homestead having been gutted and repurposed to house any remaining homeless, as well as what's left of travelers passing through, all of whom became trapped when the roads became unpassable. Stepping outside was a danger, ice an inch thick most anywhere you roam. It was a struggle to assist Idesa back home, as walking was near impossible, though they managed it; she would have stayed longer if she hadn't had other personal affairs of her own to deal with, promising to return as soon as she could manage.

Revyn, alternatively, didn't know what to do with all this time on his hands.

So, he threw himself into reorganization; spending quite a bit of time deep cleaning and finally starting on personal projects he'd been putting off for ages now. Old damaged armour he'd been meaning to mend to eventually sell, picking through expiration dates of potions as he tossed anything old, and making sure his more expensive trinkets were polished and clean to eventually put out on display once again. It was something, even if it was boring. Focusing on each task rather fully to keep his thoughts from wandering, though it helped rather little, considering the only other sound besides the howling of the wind, and the crackling of his fireplace, was his breathing.

Though, it was quietly, on the fifth day of this ever-worsening storm, that he began to consider attempting to make his way back to that cabin in the woods.

Revyn thought about writing, and had even started a few that were sitting out, scribbled on and unfinished, scattered over his table, but it just- it didn't seem good enough. Besides, he mused, all things considered, it was perhaps too dangerous to risk a courier, if he could find one, but if he perished on his own foolish journey at least he wouldn't have felt guilty.

He just...

He hadn't seen Galvorn since all of this started. His last little memory was of him sleeping soundly, and Revyn was feeling forcefully regretful he hadn't actually told him goodbye. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about that night, for a lot more than just what they did. There was an ache in him, even well after he had settled his stomach and he'd fully calmed and rested after everything had come and gone; the sort of ache that had him reaching for someone who wasn't there.

It was too new. All of it complicated and messy, but..

It was nice, he thinks, waking up that morning and seeing his sleeping face. Nice when Galvorn had reached for him the night before, pulling him until his face was pressed against a steadily breathing chest; his lopsided little smile when Revyn had opened the bathroom door, quirked and amused and warm and all of the things Revyn felt desperately vacant in his entirely too quiet home.

It was far more digestible to think about, than even a fraction of what had been said between him and Ambarys the following morning. Easier to daydream, than deal with a dreadful reality, when all the time alone he has anymore was for fretting.

He wondered how Galvorn was faring in all of this; Revyn trusted that obviously, the dragonborn knew how to fend for himself, but he couldn't help but worry knowing he was all alone out there, and nobody would know if something happened to him.

Seemed easier to worry rather than admit out loud that he missed him.

It wasn't long until there was a knock on his door, dressed and cleaned as he had been expecting this for some time, and was quietly escorted down to Greystone.

He hadn't spoken or seen Ambarys since that morning, as Rendvas accompanied him inside; Ambarys, who was equally put together and waiting inside beside Malthyr, who Revyn looked at curiously, had greeted him quietly, while Revyn promised he'd behave and so did much the same. 

Stepping inside the temple greeted them with a jarring bustling of activity; all the lanterns have been lit, children rushing and playing in the main rooms where commotion could be heard on all floors they ascended past. Peering into hallways gave show to several dunmer families chatting amongst themselves, people funneling between open rooms with bags pressed against open doorways. Malthyr stepped off then, saying something quietly to Ambarys before nodding shortly to Revyn, stepping down the second hall they slipped past; Revyn noting Malthyr's wife down the short distance, talking to another family with their children in tow.

This place of worship hadn't seen such life in quite some time; he couldn't help but wonder what had changed.

There was not much time to contemplate what was going on, when they were escorted to one of the off chambers on the second floor; it was a darker room, the windows all draped over, candles resting in a neat triangle where three pillows were placed in each corner. There were two spares, each resting on the outside of the candle's shape, sitting beside the base two corners, where the pair of them were led inside, settling in their respective spots inside the perimeter of the candles. Rendvas stood stationed by the door, the room thick with burned lavender and frankincense, silent save for the low thrum of indistinct voices carrying from just behind the stone walls. Looking at each other a moment before they heard the door push open, and in came Taliesin, followed closely by Awen, to when Rendvas gave a short bow and slipped away. 

They were dressed in intricate robes, faces painted identical in spirals along cheeks and towards their hairline, stepping towards the final empty pillow where they stood silently on either side. Hands clasped behind, looking onward when the door pushed open once again.

Madame Llavrana strode inside, deep red robes draped like silk as she moved with the grace of a black widow. Her hand lifted before her as if to reach for some unknown, and in a flash, a long metal rod appeared like a rapidly catching page set ablaze, flashing in a faint flame of blue that her fingers snatched, firm. Turning upright as the darkened orb seemed to manifest, appearing like a new moon in the night sky as she finished her path towards her place at the head of the ritual space.

Revyn felt himself momentarily stop breathing, before forcing himself to exhale slow.

She didn't greet her apprentices with more than a glance, settling against the pillow before the pair of them 

There was a moment, a fraction of a second, that Revyn wasn't sure if she would see it on him; see what he'd done. He knew, reasonably, after everything discussed and after no word from her for so long, that she didn't know, but there was still.. fear, in him, that he couldn't reason away. Could she see the marks that had been left? Now mostly faded and faint with a layer covering? Could she sense the imprint Galvorn had left on him? If he had been wrong, and such a thing does rob him of part of himself, would she see the gap? The crack in his soul that Galvorn had caused?

If she did, she didn't say.

Instead, she settled before them, placing her staff on the ground horizontal before her, and spoke to them about the storm.

It felt almost normal, for a little bit. As normal as something so strange could be, all things considered; 

She told them there was something wrong between realms, a cry coming from Sovengarde she can feel like a pressure against her ribs. The wrongs happening beyond the veil were trying to get attention, crying for help and those atrocities being committed were forcing this manifestation to rise tangible and terrible before them.

"Until the world-eater is destroyed, I don't believe the clouds will part," she had told them, and expressed she'd been working on gathering many of the dunmer in unstable homesteads to stay in Greystone until further notice. Many of the homes down in the Grey Quarter were decrepit and falling apart, and the added weight of ice and sleet were weighing them down dangerously. Most families with children had taken her offer, and Revyn finally understood why there was such a presence of dunmer here. She extended the invitation to them both, Ambarys only briefly considered it but Revyn expressed that he preferred to stay where he was, grateful, he added, but the move felt unnecessary.

He felt watched enough as is, and, well, he hadn't fully convinced himself not to make the trek back to that cabin; or yet, what if Galvorn comes?

It seemed a silly reason if he had any doubts concerning the stability of his roof in such a time, but.. he didn't really want to be anywhere he couldn't easily be found. Not right now.

Those thoughts faded along with the subduing concerns of the tides of the world; where Madame Llavrana settled in with a breath, the air in the room shifting like a breeze, the candles flickering but not giving out, as she began their first official courtship arrangement with a well practiced flourish of energy.

It went mostly as expected, all things considered, and with what little experience Revyn had in this particular field. Llavrana did most of the speaking, working through specific goals she's setting between them both, expectations she has while reiterating restrictions. Ambarys was given a set amount of times he's to seek out his 'intended' for courtship specific practices per a week period, and vise versa, appropriate times to seek out their assigned chaperones which, now, were presented before them with a practiced gesture from the seer.

Taliesin strode up beside Ambarys, taking a seat beside him. Revyn watched them a long moment as Taliesin dipped into dunmeri, a glow beginning to form in the healer's hands when Revyn noticed movement to his own side, someone taking a seat on his accompanying pillow on the floor beside.

Revyn glanced over to see Awen, face passive as she carefully maneuvered herself to sit closer, facing him. Llavrana stayed seated where she was, quietly overseeing as Awen took Revyn's hand in her own, and he focused his attention on her.

Now, while courtship is explained to every dunmer during their coming of age, the specifics are a mystery to most anyone who hasn't chaperoned or experienced it first hand. To be a chaperone requires a certain amount of training itself, training that is granted often to elder dunmer who have gone through the process themselves, oftentimes parents, grandparents, or elder siblings; Revyn had none of the above, and Idesa being both younger and inexperienced, it wasn't much of a wonder she had been barred from doing this for him, even if part of him wished different.

He didn't have the typical comfort granted by having this person be someone important in his life, someone eager to guide and help him understand with a bias on his behalf; he supposed Ambarys was in much the same boat as he was, but it was by no means a comfort.

Revyn didn't fully know what to expect when Awen began.

She did not greet him further than a nod, dunmeri dripping from her own mouth like a prayer, rites causing a distinct soft blue glow to emit from her palms where Revyn's were clasped. He felt a heat spark against his palms, racing down his wrists and into the marrow of his arms, her eyes taking on an ethereal otherness as the reds faded almost like blood in milk, before flashing and fading. Awen released his hands, her fingers trailed to press against spots along his arms, towards his collar, before her middle and ring pressed between his eyes and he saw a flash of..-

_He was being hoisted up, legs wrapped around someone's waist as a mouth pressed against neck and collar, his back slammed against an unfamiliar wall as formless hands grabbed and pulled along mussed up clothes. There was a mouth against his, trailing and pressing anywhere it could reach, but when he tried to reach for them, he could feel them, but he couldn't make out their form nor shape, uncomprehending of what was before him before his eyes forced him to look away. He felt hot all over, needy and desperate and so safe as something he is so sure is a hand pressed against his cheek._

_The voice spoke but it was garbled and indistinguishable, a writhing mass of nothingness but they were- he knew them, trusted them, and this wasn't them but it was somehow and he didn't understand what was different._

_"You could have come to the shop," was his reply, but he didn't know what he was responding to, and there was another response he could not hear. Was this a memory? Why was he here? Who was this? Why couldn't he see them? A knock happened on a door he did not notice before, and they froze. There was a sound, Revyn responding with an embarrassed laugh of his own, where he was placed down by the form and trailed behind to answer. Idesa was there, muddy and smiling, and behind her was-_

Awen's hand pulled away, her brows pinched and her eyes regarding Revyn sharp, though her expression otherwise was carefully blank. His head hurt, blinking confused because..? What was that? Who was-

She grabbed his chin and forced him to face her, saying nothing as she threaded her fingers through the front of his hair, palm pressed against his forehead and-

_Ambarys was looking grim about something, and Revyn was walking behind the counter towards the back where the other dunmer trailed to follow. His friend bumped his hip, a question on his lips but Revyn was barely listening. It seemed late, and he felt so tired, where a hand slipped around his waist and helped lead him upstairs and- and he didn't swat him away. He wanted to but he didn't know if it was him or this version of him that felt that way, because Ambarys was warm against his side and it felt wrong somehow to him that it was familiar. Why were they alone together? When did this happen? He had no recollection as he was led up the stairs where he sees trinkets and familiar baubles from his shop, but what were they doing here? He was sat on a bed, or chair? He can't see straight. Ambarys crouched on the floor before him, hands on his knees and looking up at him with concern, but his ears were ringing and he struggled to focus on what was said before the dunmer stood again as if understanding something, moving to a far cooking spit where he seemed to set something up._

_Revyn couldn't focus on anything, everything hurt. His head was foggy and his stomach pinched up, and he doesn't know why he's in Ambarys back room but it almost looks as though he lives here too and he doesn't understand how or why. Some time passes but it's hard to tell when Ambarys returned to his side, and there was a mug in hand that he passed Revyn's direction who took it without thought and it smelled of ginger and mint and he felt like crying. Did something happen?_

_Ambarys had a hand against his leg, squeezing his knee and for once Revyn could make out a quiet, "you should get some rest daelkhun..-" and his vision went white and-_

Revyn coughed, choking on air as two hands cupped his cheeks, forcing him to face them.

Awen had a careful look about her, her voice soft and private.

"Your _mahkan_ is like the roots of a shepherds tree," her eyes were flashing, faint light emitting from behind as the hands pressed against his cheeks felt charged with ever building energy. "hundreds of feet beneath the soil and ever branching, changing," her hands slipped down towards his jaw, searching for something, "you're such a little thing," she said, looking at him squarely, "you've got all sorts of dangerous attention latched onto you."

"What-" Revyn flinched when the tips of Awen's fingers faintly shocked him, looking at her with ever-mounting confusion, "what did you do-?"

"Courting rites you agreed to," she responded, hands dropping down to his shoulders, moving along the path of his arms until she clasped his hands. He saw flashes of moments, but they moved too quickly for him to gather anything more than simple impressions, a heat in his palms where they touched. "In simpler terms, I am following the trail of the branching web of your possible fates."

Awen explained, at Revyn's behest, what that meant or entailed; that while future sight wasn't possible, as things changed drastically given each day by day, as nothing could ever be set in stone until it became the past - every soul had an infinite amount of threads that either snapped or became reinforced with every minor decision made by billions every given second. Awen expressed that while it is impossible to know the exact path someone may take, nor was it possible to follow each web nor translate it exactly based on snippets, mere fractions of a much larger web, some fates can be traced; especially in cases of courtship, as two fates become intertwined, and as folks age, their outcomes narrow.

"This allows us to perceive how well a courtship can go, calculate the odds, reinforce suggestions on how to make a courtship successful or understand why it may fail. Yet, you.." her mouth pressed together, and more moments came and went, feelings of grief, heartbreak, immense love, and fear, all thrashing as they skittered his consciousness, "I cannot find your sturdiest root. We may have to do this again, before your next arrangement." her hands fell from his own, clasping against her neatly folded legs, head dropping to a polite nod, "I look forward to guiding you on this path, and accept you, Revyn Sadri, merchant and brother, as my charge."

Revyn let his hands relax against his lap, immensely worried of what she may have seen or will see, as he too nodded his head, dropping polite, "I look forward to being guided on this path," he recited, staring down at his hands with a nervous breath, "and accept you, Awen, apprentice, and successor of our wise-woman, as my keeper."

As he hoped, desperately and foolishly, that this won't lead to his ruin; or worse, as he raised his head back towards his seer, resting passively with her darkened scepter laid out before her, wondering, terrified, in all of the fates Awen might be able to trace, if any led him there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We RETURN to plot. I would have had this update out sooner but I've been busy holiday stuff and working on a million other art projects for family that need to be finished before Christmas, so I've gotten a little busier than I like on that front. I appreciate all of y'all's patience with me immensely, and well, I just want to busy up the Grey Quarter because this cult is not just like 10 folks, it's a few hundred living in the Grey Quarter. I feel like quite a few more folks had to move into Windhelm for it to fully change an entire section of a city, and that's my argument. I really want to flesh out specific rites and abilities between these characters, and I think it's fitting that they can do things Revyn isn't privy to either; thank you all so much for reading!!
> 
> Translations:  
> daelkhun - "Heart"  
> mahkan - "Life Path"


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> A/N: Job changes and prepping for the holidays is /not/ conducive to getting chapters out, omg. The good news is this is here now, and take it as my holiday gift to you, but know that I should be getting back to multiple chapter updates in a month come January! I wanted this out sooner but December has always been a very busy month for me, but I've already got chapter 16 in the works, so I appreciate everyone's patience with me! (While I'm glad and thankful for the opportunity to work, there is definitely a big part of me that misses having so much time on my hands to dedicate to my stories, oof.)
> 
> That being said, thank you all so much for reading, for your patience, and all your lovely comments (getting the sort of feedback I do always makes my day thank you all so much omg) [And if you see any distracting mistakes pls let me know!! One set of eyes tends to make me overlook obvious issues] - I hope you enjoy!

The wind was so loud these days.

There were no echo of steps in the alley, no belligerent shouting nor the faint clashing of metal from the forges down the way. Revyn had gotten so used to the sound of life in a city so old and yet so large; with its ever marching patrol of hundreds of troops in and around the city, the calls from the market whos voices caught in the wind and trailed to his doorstep, with the occasional sounds of strays barking and cooing as they traversed the streets. For the wind to be the only breath around the city was deafening, and the quiet made sleep almost impossible.

Well, perhaps he was exaggerating a bit; it was a lot more than just the lack of sound. He had his fireplace crackling, the faint creeks from the ceiling as his roof held up against the weight of the ever-falling snow, staring at it for hours in fear that maybe it will eventually give way - though it never does. His trouble with sleep, he thinks, stems from a lack of anything else.

Revyn had strict rising and resting hours, his day typically structured and scheduled down to the very minute with little variation. When something unexpected happened that he hadn't planned or scheduled around, he was want to get flustered or even angry at times. All things had a time and place during the construct of his day and that's how it should be. This last month having entirely upended his painstakingly precise procedure with nothing but chaos, and this was the third night in a row where he had found himself staring blankly at nothing. He knows every crack in the stone of his wall, the wooden braces along his ceiling, the faded ink lettering of page eighty-six of some book he's been barely paying attention to, having hadn't flipped the page in who knows how long at this point.

Revyn didn't know what else to do. 

His store was to stay closed until further notice, and being outside was dangerous for any period of time and must be planned out meticulously ahead of time. Revyn wasn't in any mood to seek out company, as the company he would seek would probably have to be Ambarys or his sister; while he loved Idesa, they needed their time apart because they were too alike sometimes and he often forgot she didn't need his parenting anymore, and well.. with Ambarys..- Revyn sighed.

He just didn't want to be around him right now, given the state of things. Technically can't see him even if he wanted to, which he honestly doesn't, with good reason why Ambarys hasn't been down to say hello either.

Revyn tried not to think too much about it, considering there _was_ company he wished to seek, but it was foolish and dangerous and Revyn insisted to nobody but himself that he didn't miss him; he was just a bit lonely, that's all. How could he miss someone he barely knows? Seek out companionship with someone who wasn't even a passing thought the month previous?

Yet..- he was barely a few minutes out of town. Just a brisk walk away and he could see him-

Revyn shut down the thought. See him for what? That trek had been dangerous early on in the storm, he can't imagine how difficult it must be now. Not to mention that the dragonborn was busy, and there's a strong possibility he might not even _be_ home, and _then_ what? Walk all the way back? In this weather? Besides, Revyn _still_ felt a bit guilty about imposing on Galvorn in the way he did the first time, no matter how sincere the dragonborn had insisted he was wanted.

He still can't help but wonder if he's okay.

Revyn pressed his thumb down the middle seam of his book, what line was he on again?

He pressed his lips together, eyes flickering back to the top of the page and starting over once again, pulling up his knees to rest his elbow on, chin on his flattened palm, as he went back to skimming.

He'd gone through his personal library out of boredom at least twice at this point, having cycled through the same four stories as a way to bide his time, with some small hope that if he does it enough, he'll get tired enough to sleep. He's not had the most luck, but eventually, he'll run out of things to do. The only real downside is that he was never one to have very many personal distractions outside of books, since he never really considered what he'd do if he didn't have his shop to focus on.

He'd never been left alone with his thoughts for days on end, and of all times for this to happen he wished it hadn't been now. Sitting in this proverbial waiting room for when Awen will eventually seek him out, to finish what they had started during that initial meeting in Greystone. He'd been unable to focus on much else other than the courtship, the scepter, and all of his immensely confused feelings that he's chosen to ignore in favour of poorly written romance novels, that, at least, make him feel incredulous in ways he can control, because, once again, love and relationships were safer on a page.

To be quite fair, most anything was safer when he didn't have to be bothered with the reality of it.

How nice, he thinks, to deal with problems that simply aren't his own. This love was easy, lazily flicking the time damaged crumpled corners; it was actually embarrassingly easy to fix, and it was enjoyable to see problems that were of no consequence to him and the solution in reach. Few pages ahead that he can skip to and think nothing of it, especially being so little in the mood for conflict as he was.

Revyn found his place again, exhaling through his nose; ah, right. Nearing the love confession before the hundredth page of a nearly three hundred paged book.

It would probably be better if he focused on what was happening rather than daydreaming. He's not certain if he's flipped any pages tonight other than out of habit.

It was just..-they're confessing their feelings, some conflict was going on between their clans, but these two were hidden away from the violence and holding each other and- and Revyn kept having to reread the dialogue, because his thoughts were drifting and taking him back to the cabin. He and Galvorn were nothing like these characters, and he knew that, but.. they kept grabbing each other, and Revyn would keep looking over the same few lines as he thought about them sitting on Gal's bed; thoughts to his hands being held and the earnest way Galvorn would speak with him, all hands and small smiles as the night progressed. Things were progressing between these two as well, as he lazily skimmed where these written events were going, and he couldn't stop returning to that night.

Revyn was perhaps a few pages away from skipping to the good parts of his novel when he received a knock at his door.

His fingers froze. Parchment pressed between his thumb and forefinger as his ears twitched, listening uncertain if it was his own door, or maybe something fell, or-

There was another knock, a little louder this time. His book fell to his lap, looking towards the empty doorway leading to the front storeroom, the lights completely absent from his home save for the low glow of his firepit, and his dimly burning candle at his bedside. He glanced up towards the clock above his doorframe, almost annoyed because it's thirty minutes to midnight, and who in all of Tamriel was out this late during a storm like this?

For a brief moment, he wondered if it was Idesa, but she has a key and would likely be shouting at him to open the door if that were the case. He had some worries about it being that belligerent drunk, but supposed if that embarrassment wanted his attention, he'd be closer to knocking down the door, and they both know he wasn't brave enough to face any of the dunmer head-on, let alone by himself.

Revyn snorted; Rolff hasn't had the confidence to bother Revyn since he broke his nose a few years back, and either out of fear or embarrassment of it happening again, leaves a wide berth between them at all times. The nord was all bark with no bite, so it was exceptionally unlikely he was attempting to bother him at this hour.

Was it Ambarys? Revyn glanced back at his book, huffing faintly annoyed under his breath. Ambarys was a likely answer, but if that were the case Revyn isn't answering. It's late enough as is, and if it isn't him, then it's Awen, and he isn't in the mood for either of them at this hour.

Determined to feign sleep, Revyn tried to ignore the gnawing feeling that he was being rude by not answering when there was another knock, this time a little louder.

Revyn exhaled.

He was _not_ dressed for visitors, and if they think he's going to be they're _wrong_.

Revyn doggy-eared his page, setting it on his pillow as he kicked out of his covers. He quickly snagged his pajama bottoms from the floor, pulling them on with a sigh as he tugged at the collar of his loose-fitting shirt; rather, someone else shirt, but the specifics didn't quite matter as he grabbed the candle, sticking it safely inside his opened lantern when there was another knock.

"I'm coming!" he shouted, feeling a tired flare-up of annoyance, "by _Azura_ the impatience of you." not bothering with slippers considering his floors have been swept and reswept enough times in one day they were getting marks. Trodding to his front door with a tired grumble as he unlatched it with some dismissive comment to send them away, only to pull open the door a fraction to have whatever he was going to say die before it could form.

Startled, he pulled the door open wide before the other had a chance to get a word in, snagging them by the gauntlet and yanking them inside. Revyn hastily stepped past them and slammed the door shut loudly, stomach in panicked knots.

"What if someone saw you!" Revyn hissed, quickly latching the deadbolt and checking the knob. He stood quietly, ear to his door, before briefly glancing over his shoulder at the snow-covered heap of a man behind him with a deep frown. He quickly took note of the sizable bag slung over his back, who was chuckling as he was still getting his footing. His hand having grabbed the edge of Revyn's merchant table for balance, as the mix of snow packed into the tread of his boots didn't do well for staying upright.

"I was invited back by the owner, you know," and there was a laugh on his voice as the satchel slipped from a heavily armoured arm, collapsing on the floor with a hefty clatter. He used his foot to prop it against the front of the counter, as his other hand went towards his mask, "left me a lovely letter, after robbing me of my favourite shirt."

While his heart rate didn't entirely slow, the moment of panic passed, as Revyn heard another sharp howl of the dreadful wind outside; it was unlikely anyone was out for a stroll in these conditions, and if they had been, they'd be rather unlikely to see anyone further than three feet in front of them. Reassuring himself that maybe they were safe; that nobody saw.

With a huff, he watched as Galvorn pulled the mask from his face, glancing at the icey thing with a half frown before setting it on the counter; his cheeks were flushed, hair bound up and nose a bit red from the cold, sniffing as he brushed some of the excess snow from his body.

"You need to be careful," Revyn exhaled, terse, a hand coming up to his cheek a little nervously as he stepped away from the door, "I'm in _enough_ trouble as is, and having a mysterious stranger visit me in the late hours of the night would be-" _disastrous_ , was what he tried to say, and technically did, against windburned lips and cold gloves against his cheeks.

It took a fraction of a second to realize what was happening; some small knee jerk reaction to simply swat at him or pull away, dying. Inhaling sharply, eyes falling close, hands still clinging to the lantern, frozen. 

Oh.

Oh, he missed him.

The yearning he had spent so much time trying to swallow hit him like a brick, and he couldn't even be bothered to be annoyed. Of course not; not when he feels Galvorn sigh against his mouth, not when he can feel the bosmer slump and press close. Revyn instinctively tilted his head up, releasing one hand from the lantern handle to reach for the back of his neck, and he can feel him smile.

It felt like the first breath after being submerged for so long underwater. Galvorn pulled back only far enough to press another kiss against the side of his mouth, cold gloves chilling his jaw but Revyn found he didn't care. A breath passed, then two, before Galvorn pulled them apart but barely further than hair's breadth away. His forehead pressed against the dunmers, noses bumping.

"Hello," and Galvorns' voice was faint, low, and Revyn exhaled with almost excitement from his nose, dazed half-lidded eyes glancing up to catch Galvorns' with a quiet snort.

"Hi." he murmured, before Galvorn tilted his head back down and pressed another kiss. Two, three, before moving to press one against his nose, thumb brushing over the dunmer's cheek.

His breathing was short, feeling hot despite the ebbing cold seeping in through the cracks from the front door. Galvorn looked him over, brown eyes seeking over any stray hair and the stress lines along his cheeks and forehead, tracing them with a breath, Revyn watching as his shoulders seemed to settle and relax.

"How are you faring?" Galvorn asked quietly. Revyn pressed his lips together, not fully sure what to say in response, distracted by the fact that Galvorn was very much real and in front of him, and it felt surreal to be reminded that he wasn't someone he had dreamed up. After the sort of week he's had, being able to reach up and feel the very solid, if not very cold, person beside him, genuinely felt like breathing for the first time in days.

"I'm faring, I suppose," he replied, though it sounded lackluster even to his own ears. Shrugging felt almost inappropriate, letting his hands both return to the handle of his lantern as he said, "It's been a... week. "

"You look tired," Galvorn straightened up a bit, and Revyn found it almost ironic that he could say the same about him, with the dark circles forming as they were. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

Revyn shook his head, making a vauge gesture towards his living chambers, "oh, no. Just settling in, really," he stepped back, reminded of the hour once again, returning to fiddle with the little clasp of the small lantern door, eyes finally processing the pack Galvorn had brought with him, "reading, actually. What is that?"

Galvorn pulled back after a hair fraction of a moment, seeming to almost hesitate as his hands slipped away. Blinking, as though having forgotten he hadn't come empty-handed, he glanced to the floor where he'd set the satchel down in a heap. 

"Ah, yes." Galvorn stepped aside, allowing Revyn to move around and get a better look. He placed the lantern down as his only sourcde of light other than his firepit, which was seeping soft and forgettable from his bedroom doorway, and didn't quite reach this far into his storefront. 

Galvorn snagged the clasps, undoing the straps as he reached in and pulled out something wrapped in loose leather. He set the bundle on the countertop with a breathy grunt, as Revyn watched him grab one more set just like it. It sounded heavy, whatever it was, as the bosmer undid the wider straps around the bundles, tugging something loose before letting the leather fall open. The firelight caught and reflected off a tall flat surface, which Revyn noted in curious interest, were a series of different swords. The second bundle, which had been wider around the top, was undone to reveal a few different war hammers and axes, that Galvorn spread out for him to look at with a small gesture.

Revyn stepped a little closer, fingers brushing over the curved hilt of a well-loved shortsword, noting the engraving ' _chestnut_ ' at the base of the blade. He was some mixture of amused and astounded, "it's midnight and you came here to do a sale?"

"It's not really a sale if I'm just giving them to you," Galvorn leaned down to grab the satchel, refolding the top as he strapped it close. "I've had these cleaned and ready to go while you were in recovery," he slung the now mostly empty bag over his shoulder, "I don't suppose you remember my offer after all this time?"

Revyn picked up one of the smaller axes, already cleaned up and polished before picking up another. "You mean when I went snooping around your armoury? I recall," he placed them back down, looking over the spread and feeling at a loss of what to even say. Some of these look worth more than he could afford on a good day, haggling and all. Pressing his lips together as he noted what he was dealing with, pinching the bridge of his nose with a huff, "these are worth _gold_ Gal. I'm willing to _pay_ for them you know."

Galvorn met his eyes with a smile, good-natured and as though Revyn was being ridiculous.

"I hope for as long as I know you I never see a coin from your pocket," earnest, sincere, almost ingenuous if the merchant didn't know better. Revyn had a response, a few different ones truthfully that he hadn't fully decided on which one to say, when he saw the little shift in the way Galvorn was standing. Revyn understood pleasantries as well as the next person, but this felt sudden and too soon and he- was he leaving?

' _He looks like he just finished a long trip_ ,' Revyn reasoned to himself, so of _course_ Galvorn would want to go home as soon as possible, but-

He didn't have a lot of time to think his actions through or convince himself to do any one thing nor the next, when Galvorn seemed to reach for his mask again; there was absolutely no good reason to be behaving any differently than he would with anyone else who came by on a short visit. Yet, he snatched the heavy thing off of his counter first, before he could rationalize that he was being foolish. 

Couldn't quite find it in himself either to explain, when he heard Galvorn make a surprised sound, almost catching it but Revyn pulled it behind his back and quickly out of reach, taking a few paces back.

_What am I doing?_

"Maybe we can make a deal, then."

Galvorns' hand was still frozen in air, looking at the dunmer with alarm. After an uncertain amount of time where Revyn felt sure he had acted embarrassingly impulsive, he watched the edges of Galvorn's lips quirk into a faint smile, before something in his body seemed to ease, arms crossing over his chest with a snort. When the dragonborn looked him over with half-lidded eyes, head tilted to the side almost as if to say he was paying attention, Revyn's words caught in his mouth.

The sight of it brought a rush of want to fester in his belly, and when he couldn't find the words to elaborate, distracted as he was, Galvorn prodded; tone and demeanor playful as it was gentle.

"A deal?"

"More like a hostage situation."

Amusement is evident in the way Galvorn regards him, lifting his palms up in a form of mock surrender, "name your price then."

Revyn adjusted his grip of the mask behind him, the weight of it not insignificant as he gestured with his head a faction downward; "well your boots, for starters." Galvorn blinked, clearly taken momentarily aback, until Revyn stepped a bit further away towards his bed-chamber, slipping off with, "you can go ahead and place them by the door. Leave your coat and armour as well. No tracking any snow at the table, I've had to clean enough messes as is."

"It's rather late, you know," it wasn't quite a rebuttal, as Revyn stood just by the doorframe, watching as Galvorn seemed to hesitate. Whatever had caused him pause, however, didn't last, when he finally reached down and began unlacing the strings of his boots, giving a long look to the dunmer when he said, "you shouldn't have to entertain guests when you need to be getting sleep."

"You're telling me you came all this way without the intent to join me?"

Revyn doesn't know what's gotten into him, and if he spent any time really looking over the situation as a whole, he might have been able to blame it on the hour. Perhaps claim it was the result of mild drowsiness, intermixing with the sort of content he had been reading, while being drowned in all those resurfacing buried feelings from seeing Galvorn after all this time; maybe he would have been able to make better sense of it.

As it stands, he didn't know. He wasn't thinking it over, wasn't watching his mouth with a fine-tooth comb; he was just..- doing it. Just because it felt like something he wanted to do, and hoped that it was a good enough reason to continue as he was.

Galvorn paused briefly at that, not so much caught off guard as he was processing, looking up a little as he pulled his first boot off, "I try to temper my expectations when I can."

Revyn supposed that was appropriate, considering his own actions in the past might suggest such an expectation to be unwelcome. "Yes, well," he shifted, watching as some of the snow fell from where it was packed under the tread of the bosmer's boots, "it's bitter freezing outside and your home is a ways away. You've not been here long enough to warm up," then, thinking, "and wasn't it you who stated that hyperthermia can kill someone in ten minutes?"

"It can," the other boot slipped off, setting them by the door, hands reaching towards the straps and buckles of his armour as he began undoing just enough for him to easily slip out. "assuming it sets in."

"Well if you _don't_ want to be here-"

"I _never_ said that," and he was smiling again, "It's a hostage situation, and I'm negotiating," his gauntlets slipped off, part of the chest plate and further down, piece by piece, "I suppose my only worry is keeping you up when you've got work in the morning."

Revyn made a confused ' _hm_ ' sound, before shaking his head, "Oh, goodness no. There's no work tomorrow, didn't anyone tell you?"

Galvorn's hands lulled as he was removing what was left of his shoulder guards, looking to him confused, when Revyn made a quick dismissive hand motion, "here just- ah, finish up what you're doing, I'm sure my kettle still has some warm water in it and I'll get something made for you. Leave your things, we'll talk more when you join me."

Revyn slipped away before Galvorn could properly respond with anything other than a nod, leaving him as the dunmer briskly walked over towards his firepit. Revyn often drank tea before bed, hoping that it would still be good to use, as he hovered his hand by the cast iron of his kettle to see how much heat it was still giving off; satisfied that it felt like enough. This was a methodical procedure, as Revyn simply went through the motions of prepping a cup, disjointing the process briefly as he set the mask on the short bookshelf by the headboard of his bed. The top of it scattered with other small items, an assortment of baubles and knick-knacks he's collected over the years and never had a place for, the shelving in replacement of a real bedside table, that he moved away from to snag his tea leaves.

By the time Galvorn had come to join him, Revyn had a recently cleaned mug with seeped tea leaves already sitting at the table, lighting one more lantern but otherwise keeping the room relatively darkened at the late hour; Revyn wordlessly gestured for the bosmer to take a seat, busying himself with putting away the remainder of his leaves as he shoved them away. 

Galvorn appeared withdrawn, but seemingly not in response to any one thing that's happened since he arrived. Just reserved as he took his seat, smiling quirked, and faint, as he dropped with a muffled sound. 

Galvorn wrapped his hands around the base of the mug, Revyn looking him over as he approached with a quick and critical glance; he was dressed down in simple dark greys and rather utilitarian trousers, with thin strips of cloth wraps around his ankles, wrists, and knuckles. No cuts or scrapes that the dunmer noticed in those seconds of his approach, and for the most part Galvorn was sitting fairly intact. There was a tired calm about him, he noticed, shoulders faintly slouched, and legs catching at the ankles along the base leg of the table. There was something distracted about him, Revyn thinks, because he's not being as chatty as he normally was. It was late, and Revyn assumes he had to push through a lot of snow to even get here, and he might simply _just_ be tired, but Revyn couldn't shake the feeling that something felt off.

Revyn didn't think to make himself a cup, leaving himself with nothing to fiddle with as he finally took his seat across the table.

He didn't feel odd nor uncomfortable in Gal's presence, but Revyn was ought to feel awkward because there was this vibration in the air whenever he was with the dragonborn, and he's not very good at being the person who handles it. Not fully sure what to do with his hands, he switched to having them rest on the table, before thinking better of it and crossing them over his chest. He realized maybe it would make him appear unfriendly, letting them drop under the table, pressing his flattened palms between his thighs. He opened his mouth to say something, when he realized that Galvorn had been watching him all the while, and Revyn felt distinctly watched and embarrassed because he must look rather silly, struggling to sit _comfortably_ of all things.

Revyn found a lack of words and realized they were just.. just sitting there, watching each other.

Galvorn broke the spell first, faint as he looked down at his mug, and despite the low lighting, his cheeks looked almost pink. Revyn settled, sitting forward and letting his elbow rest on the table, his cheek resting in the palm of his hand as Galvorn brought the mug to his mouth. It was a settled feeling, calm and quiet as the mug found its place back on the table surface, and Galvorn finally returned his attention up. When he smiled it was soft and muted, almost confused, like there were things he wished to say and ask but didn't know where to start or if he even should. Revyn was the one to speak up.

"Are you alright?" he didn't intend for it to come out almost as a whisper, but there was a quiet that had fallen over the room, and breaking it felt wrong somehow. Galvorn didn't seem to mind one way or the next, thumb trailing over the lip of the mug with a barely-there shrug.

"I'm alright," he replied, sniffing, using his inner wrist to rub at the tip of his nose a moment, "tired," he added, "received a missive to speak with the Jarl over in Whiterun. Claimed it could not wait, despite the fact the letter could have easily covered everything he had to say, and he simply chose not to do so." Galvorn didn't seem frustrated as he did resigned. His hand coming up to brush a few fly blond hairs from his face as he said, "The ah, trap, has been giving them more trouble than it's worth. It'll be another two weeks before they're certain it will be ready for me, and I've been.. preparing for it." with an abortive huff, he said, "roads are practically unpassable at this point. It's a wonder I didn't get turned around with most of the path completely hidden under a few feet of snow."

"Did you just get back?"

Galvorn nodded, "I stopped by the cabin first so Meeko could get some sleep. I wish I could have come sooner, but the trip couldn't wait."

"You don't owe me any explanation," Revyn tried to sound more dismissive than endeared, but wasn't fully certain if his tone landed.

"I know," was the somewhat quiet reply, as Galvorn brought the mug to his mouth, and there was a 'thank you' on his breath when he took a sip. The bosmer took a few seconds, thinking, before exhaling.

"I don't believe in notching a bedpost and leaving," and Revyn doesn't know if it's the low lighting, or if it was the way the bosmer was holding himself, but Galvorn looked _exhausted_. There was a moment where his shoulders seemed almost lower somehow, tension between his brows, with the edges of his mouth tense. He didn't place the mug down fully, swallowing, "I feel guilty about not seeing you sooner. I worried you thought I'd had my way and was done with you, which hadn't been my intent."

It was warm knowing he seemed to care.

Revyn felt only marginally embarrassed realizing that Galvorn had been out there worried about the state of the world, haunted by false impressions of having abandoned some potential lover up north; while Revyn had been home alone bothered by the fact he didn't even know Galvorn's favourite colour.

Some folks had _real_ problems.

Goodness, how storybook.

This still probably wasn't the right time to ask, either.

Not when Galvorn looked close to collapsing. He had a weight about him that wasn't appropriate to bother with the long laundry list of questions he had about his person. Curiosities of his raising, his parents, on whether or not he had siblings; didn't feel right to poke and prod about where he was from, old friends, or new. Revyn wanted to know, because by the Divine, of _course_ he does. Feeling the desire to know like a pressure against the back of his throat, but Galvorn was looking into his mug and his brows were furrowed and Revyn found himself asking none of it.

He'll find out his favourite colour another time.

Or, really, it's even probably for the best that perhaps he never knows. What was the point in getting to know someone that cannot be kept? Someone who will soon be gone? Knowing will make saying goodbye so much harder than it needs to be; than it will be.

"It's a silly thing to worry over," Revyn replied quietly, "I wasn't bothered by the absence. I know you have exceedingly more important things to worry about than abiding by menial social customs. I would argue you of all people shouldn't be held to that particular standard, when you have the end of the world to fret over."

"I don't think I should be exempt," another sip, "I'm trying to earn your favour, and I don't believe vanishing without a word is going to help me with that."

"You've set yourself up for an impossible task," it was mostly instinctual, at this point. In good humour, though partially serious, because Galvorn is on a suicide mission and Revyn wasn't going to allow himself to be set up for heartbreak. Not like this. "If you want my favour, you have to return alive, but until then I'm not offering it."

Galvorn didn't say anything to that, but Revyn saw the faint upturn of a smile as the bosmer took another drink. He set the mug down, the ceramic making a stiff sound as it was placed.

"You mentioned you're closed," he said after a little while, looking the dunmer over with subdued half-lidded eyes, "does that mean you don't have to be up early tomorrow?"

Revyn sniffed, "I might still, simply out of habit, but no. I have no reason to as far as I'm aware," he glanced towards his firepit, eyeing what he had left of the firewood, and was comfortable knowing there was still a fair bit left. "Whole city is in a lock down," he returned his attention back to Galvorn with a vauge wave about them, "storm was deemed too dangerous to have anyone running about, it seems." He felt another question catch in his throat, but loosened his hold on it when he asked, "do you?"

Galvorn had his chin propped on the palm of his hand, his head shaking slow when he said, "end of the world has been put off another two weeks, if that says much. Only have a few things I need to get in order in that time, but none of it has to be done first thing in the morning."

Revyn felt very awake when he asked, "and Meeko?"

The edge of his lips quirked into a smile, "what about Meeko?"

"Will he be fine until at least midday tomorrow?"

"Master Sadri, are you _propositioning_ me?"

"Would you prefer I send you home in the middle of this storm when you look dead on your feet as is?"

Galvorn has his lips pressed together, smiling cheeky, "I just want to hear you say it, riellei, your concern for me is music."

Revyn sighed through his nose, feigning annoyance as he made a sweeping gesture towards his bed, "It's _late_ , Master Túrin, and I am offering respite."

"Is there any chance you may throw my mask in this offer for good measure?"

Revyn replied sharply, "are you going to say no to sharing a bed with me if I don't?"

Galvorn squinted at him, a chuckle bubbling up, "So we _are_ sharing."

Why is Galvorn _poking_ at him so much? Revyn squinted in return; "Do you not want to?"

The bosmer gave him a dry look, clearly going at this from an angle that Revyn wasn't understanding. "I just want _you_ to tell _me_ where you want me," emphasizing his words with a dull poke to the tabletop.

Revyn regarded him a long moment, "I don't want to make..- demands of you, Gal." he attempted, "I assume outright telling you what to do is unwelcome."

"Is there any way I can convince you it isn't?" Galvorn sat forward in his seat, elbows on the table with his arms crossed inward towards his body, "I have no desire to misunderstand you. I also appreciate blunt honesty when it can be had."

"Do I not speak clearly as is?" Revyn asked, not sure if he should be worried his speech is degrading, when Galvorn chuckled warmly, shaking his head.

"You speak incredibly well, I apologize for even possibly implying that you don't," he tilted his head, "I think I'm the one not being clear. I'm trying to ask you to be direct with me when you want something from me. Be as presumptuous as possible, I don't care. I sometimes struggle with understanding when something is wanted from me, or miss subtext entirely because I'm distracted or tired or likewise. Tell me what to do, and I will tell you whether I can or cannot."

Revyn chewed the inside of his cheek. Well, alright.

"That's easy enough," he ventured. If Galvorn prefers to be told what to do, that wasn't a hard request towards someone who raised an eight year old into adulthood. Regardless, it still felt a tad rude when he began with, "You're staying the night tonight then, I've decided. Safer than traveling back out into the blizzard, as far as I'm concerned."

It was the exact correct way to respond to Galvorn's request, who looked pleased as he seemed to prod in good humour, "hm, to the floor with me then?"

"Well I _could_ make you sleep on either that or the chair, but ah, well," Revyn shifted a bit, shoving away from his seat, "it's not as though we can be any more indecent with one another than we already have been."

"Oh, I disagree," and Galvorn pushed to stand when Revyn did, hands pressing against his own lower back and stretching with a grunt. Revyn watched him a short moment before stepping aside towards the bed. A sigh came from not too far behind as Revyn pushed back some of his mussed-up covers, hearing the bosmer's approach with the faint creek of old floorboards, "I don't quite think you've been indecent whatsoever."

Revyn _vehemently_ disagrees, but opts not to argue the point. Galvorn appeared a bit over his shoulder, where Revyn turned and took a seat on the edge of his bed, returning his attention back to the dragonborn's attire, "Did you think to grab nightclothes before you came over with that satchel of yours?"

Galvorn did pause then, "Ah, well," thinking, "I don't have nightclothes, but I _do_ have a cleaner pair of trousers."

Revyn returned a funny look, "so you had somewhat hoped to stay the night but didn't even prepare for the possibility that you would?"

"I prepared in different ways," but didn't elaborate further, "I wasn't fully thinking about clothes."

"Well go think of clothes now," Revyn shifted back on his bed until his back was against the chilly stone of his wall, crossing his legs at the ankle, "it's rather late and you look enervated."

Galvorn didn't argue, one of his hands reaching to press down his cheek, rubbing the base of his palm against his eyes with a sigh. Nodding, he turned on his heel, slipping out of the room without much grandiose, before returning moments later with his satchel in hand. He dropped it by the bedside, leaning down to dig through it before he seemed to find what he was looking for, and wordlessly began to undo the straps of his trousers right there in the middle of the room.

Revyn almost said something before realizing it was _incredibly_ stupid to feel prudish now, especially after..- ah, having had Galvorn in the nature that he did. Seeing him undress probably shouldn't have felt as big of a deal as it truthfully actually was, which was not at all. Regardless of this, Revyn still averted his eyes abruptly when Galvorn's thumbs hooked under the waist of his pants, seeing them slip down in his peripheral and feeling silly that his pulse seemed to pick up and his face warmed. 

The room was quiet save for the soft crackling of the fire and the shifting of the floorboards, when Revyn heard the bosmer chuckle.

"You're allowed to look, you know," and Revyn frowned at the amused way it was said, "I've nothing to hide and it's nothing you haven't already seen."

"Your trousers didn't get fully removed last time, if I recall," as Revyn kept his eyes towards a little divot on his old wooden bedpost, "also there was no light, so you're technically wrong."

Galvorn cackled, " _ah_ , so _seeing_ is more scandalous than it is to have me fuck you?"

Revyn narrowed his eyes but not directly at Galvorn, who still was working on pulling a different pair of trousers up over his hips, "I'm not justifying that with a response." and while Galvorn had snorted, the dunmer finally glanced towards him when it seemed he was finished strapping up. Noting that between all of this, he'd changed out shirts into something a bit looser, hands slipping up towards his frozen bun, yanking on the ribbon until his hair came undone.

Revyn has seen his hair down before, but it was jarring to remember how very long it was. Galvorn stepped towards the bed, pushing the hair over his shoulder as he ran his fingers through it with furrowed brows, trying to unknot some of the damaged ends. Revyn shifted a bit further to the side, as Galvorn took a seat, ribbon over his arm that Revyn carefully reached for when Galvorn isn't fully paying attention, before snatching it.

Galvorn froze, glancing at Revyn with bewilderment when he snorts, "You know, I'm starting to think you actually _did_ steal that ring from that poor woman." despite not reaching to take it back, nor the mask sitting on the shelf by the bedside.

"I'm practicing to join the thieves guild," was how he blandly responded, looking at the silky red thing that could probably benefit from a wash but might be the only ribbon Galvorn has.

"You need a lot more practice," Galvorn responded, seeming to get through some of the worst of his hair with his fingers, sighing as he let his hands fall to the sheets by his hips, leaning back, "I'm aware of four instances of your thievery. I'm not sure they'd take you."

"Oh? Are you guild?"

Galvorn scrunched his nose, almost in distaste, "Not particularly my area, but I've met a few."

Revyn hummed, twisting the ribbon around his fingers absently. "Truthfully it's probably for the best I don't catch their eye, then. What with my _notable_ thieving skills, mind you. I'd put them out of business."

Galvorn watched him a long moment, and while the silence wasn't awkward, there was a thickness to it that was difficult to ignore. Revyn isn't sure fully how to sate that, his usual methods of dry humour that typically worked for Idesa didn't have the same full effect here and he's going to have to try something different.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he ventured, letting his hands fall to his lap, half tied up in the ribbon when Galvorn blinked at him, somewhat confused.

"The thieves guild? Not particularly-"

"No, no." Revyn untangled himself, offering the ribbon back, "I meant the weight you've been carrying since you walked in."

Galvorn was briefly taken aback, but when Revyn didn't elaborate he seemed to actually try and find a response.

"I'm.. alright." He said after a moment, "it's rather silly, and I don't want to bore you with the details."

"I think being bored with details is a good leeway into eventually getting sleep," Revyn hummed, "but if it helps I'll offer back your mask in return for it?"

"In return for my problems?"

"You're the dragonborn, I'm sure you have interesting problems. It's not like I have anywhere to be, you know."

Galvorn regarded him, clearly having not planned to discuss much of anything, seeming to mull over his words. Revyn reached over his bedpost and gathered up the mask, offering it with a little shake. The bosmer glanced between him and the stone garment, the tension a bit clear in his shoulders, even as the edges of his lips quirked up a bit. Instead of taking it, he used the back of his hand to gently push Revyns' wrist aside, before scooting up to sit next to him with his back against the wall, their hips touching as he pulled his legs up, their arms pressed close in proximity. There was heat in Revyn's throat, spreading to his cheeks, letting the mask fall against the pillow beside the half-read story he had already forgotten about. He leaned forward to set it aside, though it was Galvorns' turn to pluck something out of his reach.

Revyn tried to snatch it back with a half panicked shout, but Galvorns' arms were longer than his and his reflexes quick; arm pushed out to keep the dunmer half at bay.

"Wait _no_ don't look at that-!"

"You steal from me and snoop through my library but I cannot do the same?" Galvorn had the book half-open hanging from its side, tilting his head to catch a word or two before Revyn used his hands to cover his eyes with a grumble.

"Technically borrowed, and it's not as though I've yet found a book I can _read_. That with your weird fascination with dead languages."

"They're not dead!" as he pulled from the dunmers' wrists to stop him from blocking his vision, "and _this_ is a smut novel."

Revyn felt the denial on his tongue, looking up at the page but - he couldn't help but notice they weren't even where his bookmark was, almost snatching it from the bosmers' grip, before it was held further away just as his fingers brushed the page. Revyn huffed exasperated, letting his hands drop, he narrowed a sharp glance at the bosmer who was now actively scanning the words of the page.

" _How_ would you even know that?" he snapped tersely, before Galvorn brought the book to his lap, pushing a chapter or two ahead.

"I _read_ ," he teased, "I never read _this_ one but I recognize the author." he flipped to the last page, glancing over the final lines, grimacing, before he clicked it shut, handing it back over, "this is really straight."

Revyn snatched it back with an embarrassed tug, frowning at the bosmer as he dropped it on his bedside, replying testily, "yes, well, if _you_ have more luck finding something better, I'm open to suggestions."

"You probably shouldn't ask me for book recommendations," Galvorn settled a bit more comfortably, looking over at Revyn who hadn't quite settled back in his seat, his back now against the headboard of his bed with his legs pulled up. "my library is vast but sort of lacks stories for enjoyment sake." Galvorn pat his palm against the side of the dunmers leg, who glanced a bit confused until the bosmer sort of gestured to his lap and Revyn exhaled, understanding. Maybe he was a bit more tired than he originally believed, maybe he missed Galvorn more than he presumed, or- well, anything he could blame, really, for wanting whatever this intimacy offered was, because he was clearly not entirely of sound mind. Revyn stretched his legs out a bit, letting them drape over, where the dragonborn didn't miss a beat, hands falling over knee and thigh alike, "that being said," he continued, "if you like romance novels there is one I was once recommended that I'm told-" and rattled some names and events that Revyn very oddly, and almost excitedly, recognized.

Galvorn seemed pleased enough to listen to Revyn talk about it; given a distinct feeling that Galvorn was just happy to be here. He really seemed in need of the company, with the tension that Revyn could still poke through as though it were a tangible thing.

Revyn understood, at least, the lack of desire toward the discussion of unpleasant personal matters, and left it alone.

At least for, if for nothing else, the sake of this tentative quiet. Not in sound, but in bearing, with each half nod and faint grin, varying huffs and snorts that ranged from sleepy amusement to enjoyment in response to any little thing Revyn found himself saying.

So, they settled in. Relaxed conversation spilling into the empty between them, making comparisons between stories they've enjoyed on parchment verses by word of mouth, with Galvorn struggling to remember the title of a specific book for well over half of their conversation. Revyn tried to listen apt with every tired word that fell from Galvorn's lips, his breathing intermixing with more yawns than words after a while, where at some point the pair of them, uncertain who was mirroring who, each had their heads leaned against the cool stone of the dunmer's wall. Facing one another, Galvorn having shifted his body to match, as they somehow went from general critique to outright mockery towards some of their least favourite troupes; and it was just so _good_.

Galvorn's body was warm pressed this close, heavy arms draped with hands absently rubbing circles just above Revyn's ankle, voice slipping between this reverberated honey and amused distaste. It sort of made Revyn hopelessly self-aware that he must be _incredibly_ exhausted, considering that for the last bit of chatter, he'd been entirely useless conversation, outside of his intense struggle to breathe from laughing so hard. The two of them tangled together like gossiping youths with no concept of the passing of time.

Revyn pointedly avoided looking at the clock, as they drifted from the topic of books to the happenings of the world. Revyn recounted the strangeness of the past week, though purposely avoided discussing the courtship or anything related to it. He felt bringing it up would somehow shatter this warm atmosphere they've created, and have it settle like a pit in his stomach when he would much rather cling to whatever this was between them. Easy and warm and theirs.

Galvorn told him about the trip, eventually; now that he's warmed up a bit with his guard finally coming down.

The storm had hit the inner holds hard, much harder than they had been anticipating.

Galvorn recounted specifics to the best he could, given the sort of importance something of this nature was. Skyrim is a cold land, it's soil difficult to tend, and it's inhabitants willing to bear it; the issues arose from an icy frost they hadn't been expecting, crushing down long before any were fully prepared for it. Farmers were in need of help, the roads dangerous, the cold harsh and sudden, to which the efforts to focus on the dragon trap had been impeded as a result. Scrounging for materials, woodworkers and smiths overworked on delicate pieces, and the Jarls attention split on focusing on the needs of his people while understanding the dire necessity of getting that trap finished. 

The wood elf reassured after a short while, that despite the nature of his travel, it wasn't all bad.

No major difficulties on the road, he had expressed; the storm keeping bandits inside as most are unwilling to weather the storm and possibly die, while other beasts that often bled into the paths were also notably absent. People were by no means the only creatures trying to survive in this, and traversing was extremely difficult.

"Meeko had to be carried, after a while," Galvorn had yawned, hand rubbing down the side of his face, scratching the underside of his jaw with a tired huff, "poor fella wanted to come with but wasn't ready for it."

It was so late after a certain point it was becoming early.

Galvorn was struggling to keep his eyes open, though clearly wanting to because he was trying so hard to listen to what Revyn was saying. After a while Revyn almost felt cruel, considering how slumped Galvorn was becoming at his side, half-lidded and warm, voice thick and slow as he spoke with half-finished thoughts and semi-coherent sentences, until Revyn began pulling back with a sleepy exhale. It felt too intimate to think too hard on what it was exactly he was pulling away from, opting not to think about it further than patting the space beside him.

"We can talk more come morning," he murmured, pushing himself closer to the wall to let the bosmer move around him, "I feel like I'm torturing you."

"You've got a nice voice," Galvorn replied, and his voice had taken on a rough and quiet element to it, though didn't argue Revyn's point too harshly, as he pulled himself over to drop onto his back with an exhausted groan. Inhaling with a small chuckle, "oh your bed is tiny, riellei."

"Yes, well, it was not meant for company," and it wasn't quite a rebuttal, as he reached and blew out the lantern now burning fairly low at his bedside. Wordlessly, the room enveloped in a faint glow from his dimly lit fireplace, quickly examining his options as his feet kicked down on the blankets, before figuring if he was laying on his side, it would at least be a fraction less cramped between them. Revyn turned to face the wall with an inhale of his own, cheek falling to his pillow as he attempted to settle in. He mumbled a tired goodnight into the room in no particular direction, before he felt Galvorn shift behind him, followed by an arm finding its way over his middle.

Yeah, sure, that's-

Then he was met with his back being encompassed and pressed against a warm chest, feeling the press of a cheek and nose against his hair, as the arm slipped up to his chest and briefly tightened. Legs pressed mirrored along his own, like slotting together a puzzle piece, and Revyn felt immediately and distinctly not tired after all.

This felt too intimate, Revyn thought a little wildly, almost debating about setting some boundary when he found his voice caught and unwilling to cooperate.

Trying to convince himself that he didn't want something when it was so clearly _not the case,_ was difficult.

Revyn felt a pleasant thrum of pleasure blossom in his chest, like a purr with absolutely no sound. His _reason_ fighting his _want_ in an ever-losing battle as he leaned against Galvorn's comfortable grip, and tried not to feel foolish that he enjoyed how it felt to be held and clutched at in this way. He pressed his face against the pillow, fighting a smile when he felt a kiss pressed against the back of his neck, goosebumps racing and spread between his shoulder blades. 

This felt too close to something that he resoundingly could not have, and did not need, tiredly attempting to convince himself that it was far more trouble than it was worth. A relationship he would not be able to hide, with a man destined to die, and he needed to stop this but it was hard when said man made him feel like this.

He felt wanted.

It was delusional, unreasonable, but..- it made him forget, and he was starved for anything that didn't make him feel ill.

"Is this okay?" Galvorns' voice was soft against him, drowsy, and Revyn sort of made an agreeable sound.

"Just don't assume this changes anything," Revyn replied, mouth half against the pillow, eyes falling close, "don't take my comfort with you as anything other than it is."

"and what is that?" was the wood elf's semi-amused response.

Revyn grunted faint and dismissive, "good friends."

Galvorn chuckled, face pressing close, "just pals bein' pals."

Revyn pulled the blanket up a little higher, opting to not justify why Galvorn seemed to find it funny, and instead attempted to focus on getting rest. It was easy, as things grew quiet and their breathing began to slow, to nearly drift off. Revyn hadn't had much of a harrowing day, though the hour made his sheets feel so much more comfortable than he recalls them being, nearing a place where he can ignore the body pressed behind, and eventually drift off. He's not entirely sure how much time had passed, though it couldn't have been very much at all considering he was still awake, when he heard something mumbled against his shoulder.

Half convinced he imagined it, he made a small noise in question, soft enough that it wouldn't disturb the wood elf if he hadn't said something, but loud enough of an acknowledgment if he had. 

Galvorn was quiet long enough that Revyn almost settled back down, before he felt the other shift, lips press against the space behind his ear and a soft inhale.

"How old are you?" was a groggily stated question, as Revyns brows furrowed.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"I've been meaning to ask," Galvorn hummed, slow, "feared I might forget in the mornin'."

Revyn folded his hands under the pillow, not sure if he thought it was silly, considering he wasn't too long ago mulling over detail specific questions of his own, or sweet; he had to think hard for a long second, sleep ailing him, before he answered with a muffled "I'm fifty-seven," and assumed it was the end of it.

Probably could have been, since Galvorn went quiet for a little while, almost startling Revyn back into fluid awareness when he murmured, "I'm.. sixteen years older than you."

Revyn frowned against his pillow, doing quick mental math, "you're only seventy-three?"

Galvorn hummed a bit, hand settling down on Revyns arm against the mattress. When he settled entirely, Revyn was close to saying, 'about time' when he, unfortunately, recalled something he'd been thinking about earlier. It was.. a rather silly question, but he figured it could be forgiven, when he ventured with, "Gal?"

"Hm?"

"What's your favourite colour?"

He felt Galvorn shift behind him, followed but a short chuckle, "and I thought _you_ were tired."

"I might have forgotten to ask by morning," he shot back, but it wasn't necessary as Galvorn yawned against him. Revyn wasn't sure if he was going to get an answer, when he felt Galvorn's head lift up a little.

"Purple," he yawned, and Revyn felt some vague distant feeling of satisfaction, unclear why learning that had felt so important. It became important again, and perhaps it had been important to begin with and Revyn was simply being foolish, when Galvorn seemed to brush his hand along the dunmers chest, fingers burying into the cloth of the shirt. He spoke up again, his voice much slower and softer than before. Still tired, still thick with the sleep he kept chasing towards but has yet to succumb to, but it wasn't the only thing there.

"Someone, a very long time ago, had gifted me purple blossoms that use to grow around the docks," he said, mouth pulled a little away from the dunmers neck. Revyn wanted to look over his shoulder, face him, but instead stared at the stone wall before him, and just listened. He didn't think Galvorn sounded sad. He doesn't really think he sounded like much of anything.

"I don't think I had a favourite colour before then," he continued, and while his tone was light, Revyn felt something underlying there, whatever it was. "I always sort of found the idea a little silly, and yet," a shift and then warmth, when Revyn felt a kiss pressed against the back of his neck, before he felt Galvorn settle, "I think of them."

Revyn stayed very still, eyes falling just a little to look down at the arms wrapped around him.

"Who was it?"

Revyn felt immediately as though asking was almost invasive, despite Galvorn having been the one to bring it up. Even so, he felt the shrug, as the bosmer made some dismissive sound from the back of his throat.

"It's not important," he exhaled, though his tone was not unkind, "they've been gone a long time."

Galvorn squeezed him one last time, feeling finale, as nothing more was said the rest of the night; Revyn getting very little sleep, painting all his dreams haunted by questions he was too unwilling to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had wrote the line ""if you're staying a while feel free to remove the armour, I promise there won't be any sudden movements from my end" but bc I changed the framing of the scene I ended up not being able to use it so I'm putting it here bc I liked it too much.
> 
> Also someone pointed out (because I've mentioned revyns age elsewhere) that the red year happened like 100 years ago and revyn experienced it but he's only in his 50's (Elves in TES live to around 300, so they're both relatively young)-- I AM messing with the canon, and the Red Year happened only like 40 or so years ago in this story just because I prefer it to be a lot more fresh. (Also because I never googled it and goofed it akslad so I'm just changing the canon to suit my needs for fun, because it's fanfiction and why not.)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I think about this fic pretty non-stop even when I have no time to sit and work on it, I've gotten into the habit of typing at least _something_ every day even if it isn't a lot.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your patience! I'm SO close to getting fully back on a normal schedule to work on updates, things have been weird these past 3 months but I'm almost to a spot where I can work on these more regularly again. That being said; the goal is to finish this fic this year! It's a long journey yet, so thank you all so much for your interest and your incredibly encouraging comments!! (AND!!! Happy Valentine's day!! If you do not have a Valentine, too bad, you're mine now, here is my V-day gift and you are so so loved. I hope your day goes so well, and that you are safe <3 ) Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!!

Revyn doesn't really know how long he's been awake; lying there, between tired thoughts and drowsy musings. Nowhere to be, nothing to do, cheek pressed against the pillow with his eyes unfocused, trailing the worn fractures along the foundation of his walls.

Weak movement as his hand brushed forward along the cracks, and as he pressed his fingertips along the path, he wondered what caused it to splinter. Home some decades yet from ruin, unsure if such a thing could rot him too; quiet where he pressed his blunt nails against the stone, curious if it could spread like a mold, and splinter him. Splitting along his flesh, and if maybe it's been chipping away without his knowledge, as his foundation feels fractured too.

Galvorn has a knee pressed between Revyn's legs, breath slow and even against the back of his hair. There was an arm over him, chest pressed against his back, and the hour completely unknown to him.

He rarely knew when morning came these days.

The sun hadn't been able to force its way past the storm in well over a week, ghosting faint from frosted windows, and leaving imprints of what would-be morning along the old floorboards. The weight of its absence enough to rest heavy on his chest, but somehow not enough to cause bruising that might make it more manageable. Tangible and real in ways he cannot grasp or control.

At least two more weeks of this, he thinks. Two more weeks before the trap is ready, before the sun comes back, before Galvorn is gone.

If he's successful.

 _He'll be successful_ , he thought, the certainty of it equal parts ferocious and defensive. He has to be successful. Why would the gods choose someone incapable? Are they not privy to the fate of things? Why make a hero destined to fail? Why rob Tamriel of a fighting chance, if nothing else?

If he had known he may never see the sun again, he might have soaked in it longer. Might have watched it set one last time.

It's at least two more weeks; three perhaps, at most. The sun will come back, Galvorn will fix things, he has to. He'll be gone and return like nothing ever happened, and-

Who's to say he'd return here?

What if he can't return at all?

Revyn frowned. That's foolish. Where ever this path leads, if there is a way in, there is always a way out. There is so much expected of him, why put the fate of all things on someone's shoulders, for them to succeed and then punish them for it? It wouldn't be fair, it isn't-

He's overthinking; he's _worried_. It's early.

It seems counterproductive to fret over would-be's and may-be's and whatever else could rob him of rest in the coming weeks. None of this mattered, at least not right now. Not when he's almost certain it's morning, and there's a warm body beside him that is by no means off dragon-slaying nor vanquishing the devourer of worlds; at least not yet anyway. Languid, quiet, and the stillness meant control; control of the day, of the hour, of the moment.

Revyn felt him shift, minor but deliberate, and he wasn't convinced Galvorn was fully asleep either, and Revyn didn't know what was funnier; both of them pretending to still be asleep, or both pretending they don't recognize the other doing it.

A pair of fools, the both of them.

Revyn shifted, and he heard a soft inhale; the newest of several in as many minutes.

His thoughts returned to fractured foundation.

It was a small space to try and fit two people; smaller yet when one of the two happened to be rather massive, and it was a much tighter fit attempting to do so side by side. Revyn didn't have too many reservations about the arrangement, as it was scarcely different from the last time he fell asleep beside him. His cracks lie in his unwillingness to even fight how badly he craved this closeness, but even that wasn't entirely his current dilemma that he'd been dwelling on like water boiling over an open fire.

The problem came with the pressure against him whenever he shifted.

Well, perhaps less a problem, and rather a consequence of not realizing that his efforts of trying to get comfortable after rousing from sleep had him creating friction.

He _should_ stop, was the half thought he kept telling himself when he would eventually settle; but, of course, he would then realize his leg wasn't in a good enough position, or he wanted to resituate, and eventually, it was excuse after silly excuse he kept lying to himself over to justify why he was still doing it.

It became less a consequence of unintentional actions to very quickly becoming something else entirely when he felt Galvorn press back. He could feel the shift in Galvorn's breathing, feel the fingers over his belly twitch as Galvorn tried to stay impossibly still, and Revyn found himself wondering what he'd have to do to get him to react.

Found himself wondering why he wanted him to react at all.

Thoughts flooded with conjugations of bad ideas, justifications to his gods as he silently plead for their silence, and to cast their attention away. Begging muted for privacy he does not believe he will ever truly have, praying they won't betray him and pull Her sight to him, as his hand slipped back by his hip; distracted panicked thoughts of how it must not have been all that comfortable to fall asleep in pants, while he felt his way from hips to his thighs, to-

Hands that had been hovering over his belly pressed flat. Revyn was abruptly pulled firm against the bosmers' front, Galvorn shifting behind him. A kiss was pressed to the tip of his ear, hearing a sharp groan as another was pressed a bit lower, arms tightening around him before lips were against his cheek and-

"I missed you," and _oh_ his voice had the quality of gravel and it sent heat racing south, mouth pressed just under his ear and against his jaw, "I didn't want to assume-"

"I'm asking," and his face was burning because it was so hard to be clear about what he wants. Hard to make the words come out as concise and specific as he wanted, because saying it out loud made him feel heard in all the wrong ways; in the middle of silently making a lot of very weird deals with the gods so he didn't feel so delinquent.

Wrongdoing in his throat that he swallowed down like a thick drink that evaporated in his chest, with the pressure of a hot mouth scorching the flesh of everywhere they graze.

The way Galvorn had touched him all that time ago still haunts him. The ghost of gentle fingers and heat like a forge that could melt flesh, and he's ached for it since its passing. Revyn didn't know passion; didn't understand it as intimately as he understood lack, but he's so sure that this is somewhere close to perhaps what that word embodied. It wasn't passion that had him pressing back against his- his _somebody_ \- it wasn't passion that rushed through where their clothed bodies moved and shifted, feeling alight. Like a craving he's so convinced he can sate. Passion implies a continuous need; this is a hunger he can manage, a lapse he can get out of his system.

Maybe if he convinces himself that he isn't lying, then he might have a fighting chance of it one day becoming true.

His thumb caught in one of the front belt loops of Galvorn's pants, using it as an anchor to try and tug him closer.

The dragonborn choked on a sound, some half-chuckle half-breath, burying his nose against dark coarse hair, hands heat-seeking as they slipped down the dunmer's abdomen. Fingers ghosting the waist of his nightclothes, and the _implication_ had Revyn shaky.

"Is this okay?" a breath against the back of Revyn's neck, who could only hastily nod. Palm flat against his belly, where pressure dropped and slowly dipped below the waistband; he felt a nip against where his neck met collar, goosebumps racing along his spine as though they had any purpose.

A breathy 'yeah' was followed closely by a sound that could not be described as anything other than _vulgar_. Choking on a whimper as Galvorn ran the palm of his hand against him, _hard_.

This, this, _this_ -

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," and it sounded like a prayer and confession. Galvorn had no such qualms about his standing with the gods, no such pacts and deals to justify his actions. He knows certainty as intimately as Revyn knows doubt. There is so much in his voice, Revyn could spend years piecing it apart, "by mara the feel of you, the sound-" a nip against his throat, mouth murmuring against skin where the pulse picked up underneath; it was not quite worship in the same sense that Revyn was not passionate. Too strong a feeling too soon, too much too quickly; but it was near, in the vicinity and direction that his feet dragged. 

Galvorn's hands were calloused and familiar; Revyn pressed his face further against his pillow, muffling any and every sound. Legs shaking with a rush of adrenaline and arousal as he pushed his leg up just enough to make room. He couldn't voice it clearly, inexplicably more nervous now than he had been the first time Galvorn put his hands on him, but his desire was just _so_ loud. He felt awake in ways he wouldn't normally. Flushed as he pressed his hips against the grasp, causing Galvorn to exhale weak and helpless against the back of his neck.

"I want-" Galvorn cut off, palm pressing between thighs before abruptly pulling away.

The dragonborn didn't move very far, just enough to reach over the edge of the bed towards his satchel, but he notably didn't spend very long rummaging, before finding whatever it was he was looking for. He returned with a vial in hand, sitting up with his elbow on his side as Revyn glanced confused, before Gal put the neck of the small flask between his teeth. He didn't have much time to realize what it was, as Galvorn used one hand to start tugging off the bottoms of Revyns' nightclothes.

While he's sure Galvorn could have easily lifted him and gotten it off with minimal help, Revyn still lifted his hips high enough to assist with the process. Feeling his clothing slide away had his stomach in knots, and before Revyn's hips could even drop back to the covers, an arm hooked under his bare thigh. Galvorn pressed against Revyns' back once again, pulling his companion's right leg up and out of the way. He made an embarrassing hiccupped sound that was some mixture of arousal and surprise, Galvorn's knee pressing against the bottom leg, only to shove it bent towards the wall, leaving him exposed. In all of this, his breathing probably stopped close to half a dozen times as his brain tried to catch up with his body; oh this was- he's-

Galvorn wordlessly slipped his arm, once propping him up, now underneath the dunmers' side. He reached around their bodies to pull the vial from his mouth with his free hand, catching the cap with his teeth and pulling it open with a soft 'pop'. Galvorn spit the cap somewhere as his hand, clutching Revyns hiked leg, moved off just enough to take the vial and pour a generous amount onto his opposite hand. Revyn didn't see what happened after that, before Galvorn was clutching at his leg again.

"You're doing so good," He caught the gasp but couldn't fully muffle the whine when Galvorn pressed back down against his arousal, hard and with less rough friction than before, as more kisses began trailing along the back of his neck. Revyn felt the cold of the room between his legs, feeling horrifically exposed and the vulgarness of the situation hit him almost as hard as his absolute need for it.

"You don't have to be quiet," teeth grazing against where neck met shoulder, and his voice was rough in ways that made Revyn absolutely quake, "there is nobody here but us, and I want to hear you."

Revyn didn't know how to verbalize that he didn't fully believe that to be true, that despite them being alone, he didn't _feel_ alone, and he was afraid his voice would bring unwanted attention.

He had been fine at the cabin; unseen and unbothered there. He's fine, it's _fine_.

Revyn exhaled weak, cheek pressed a bit hard on his pillow, his hands struggling to find a place to rest, as Galvorn was behind him, and he didn't know what to do with them; nodding thoughtless in response to a statement he couldn't find his words for, despite struggling not to feel horrifically embarrassed when anything that threatened to bubble out. He eventually had them clutching at the bottom of his pillow, Galvorn pressing firm, moving with purpose, and it didn't take very much time at all to have that now newly familiar flood of heat pooling almost painfully, and he wanted it he wanted-

He jerked sharply when Galvorn's hand teased over a very sensitive area just a fraction away, causing the dunmer to keen before his hand could slap over his mouth in embarrassment. He could _feel_ Galvorn chuckle before he heard it, the sound just below his ear causing heat to flush against his neck and along his collar, a nose brushing just beneath the corner of his jaw.

"Hm? What was that?" Revyn almost wanted to elbow him on sounding so coy, if he wasn't struggling to focus on anything other than the ever-building pressure said person was encouraging. Revyn huffed short of breath, a hand half desperately reaching down for the hand between his legs, wanting them on him but they weren't where he wanted. Galvorn was only briefly dislodged from his work, though he then buried his face against Revyn's neck, pressing his lips against what skin he could reach before it vanished under the loose collar of his shirt. He didn't press hard despite how much Revyn wanted him to, his physical need not being enough to encourage or beg for it.

"I want you to use your words," was murmured against his collar, and Revyn could hear the smile almost faint on his tongue. The arm keeping Revyn's leg up and out of the way seemed to pull a little further up, shifting a bit as Galvorn got a bit more comfortable on his side. He trailed and circled, pressed but never pushed past, and his grip on the dunmers leg prevented Revyn from shifting down or moving very much at all, though he tried. Galvorn chuckled, "I want to hear you say it," and his voice was so low and rough, and the ache it created left Revyn in pieces, struggling to think let alone speak when Galvorn chuckled, "Come on, little rebel, I know you can do it."

Revyn made a frustrated noise which cut off sharp when Galvorn moved his hand away, quickly catching the wrist before he got too far, with a huff.

"I'm _embarrassed_ ," and Revyn winced a bit at the shaky nature of his voice, not quite looking over his shoulder at the person behind him because he was flushed and struggling to look at anything other than the wall, "I feel..- whorish."

The bosmer shifted up, pulling Revyn a bit further onto his back as the woodelf came into view. His cheeks were flushed, but there was a semi-serious look pinching his brows as he pressed a kiss against the dark elves cheek, before Revyn turned his head so their mouths could connect. It wasn't passionate, nor rough or needy, as Galvorn pulled away after a second to press his last against the side of his lips, his voice low and private.

"I'm not in the habit of calling anyone a whore unless they ask very nicely," and while his expression was a bit serious, his tone was light, "It's okay to feel embarrassed," he said, looking the dunmer over, trying to catch his eyes, "Revyn, look at me."

_"Revyn," her voice was a fraction softer, "look at me when I'm speaking to you."_

Revyn blinked, and did as he was told.

Galvorn loosened his grip a fraction on Revyn's leg, hand running along his thigh and against his hip, "what we're doing can be vulnerable, but I need you to trust me that whatever you ask for and whatever you want, you're not going to face judgment or ridicule, okay?"

Revyn reached his hand up, the action a bit absent as he pressed against the bosmers' cheek; the room itself was rarely fully dark, considering his firepit was in here, but the fire was burning a bit low and cast stark shadows along his face. Galvorn leaned against the touch, turning his cheek to press a kiss against the palm. Heat still burning between his thighs, but this fanned an entirely different fire just behind his ribcage he opted to not deal with right now.

"I- I understand," is what he said, and Galvorn smiled faintly, amused.

His eyes were half-lidded and the flush on his freckled cheeks caused a spike in his heartbeat, mouth dry.

"Do you?" he chuckled, the sound equally faint, as he dragged his hand back down between the dunmers' legs, and _oh_ he was just- "then let me be clear. I want you to tell me what you want and how you want it."

"How I w-" where was his voice? Why couldn't he find it? He cleared his throat but it was accompanied by a crack that sounded close to a moan because the dragonborn wasn't _relenting -_

Galvorn pressed another kiss against his mouth, which was lax as Revyn tried to kiss back; hand loosely trying to grasp at his collar. Teeth met his lower lip, where both too much was happening but not nearly enough; a whine building in his throat. 

"Please-" against parted lips, wanting to infuse what he was feeling into his words, but they were lacking. 

"Gods, anything," this time not fully parting as he spoke, almost like a whisper as heat flooded Revyns face, goosebumps following the trail wherever Galvorn touched, "hearing you cry out and enjoy yourself is so good," and he did _something_ with his grip, causing a half-choked whimper to slip from Revyns lips. "that- that more of _that_."

He needed it, _oh_ he needed - Revyn jerked his hips forward against the other's grasp, tucking his fingers against the back of Galvorns neck like an anchor, catching a few stray hairs between his fingers as they began to move in time with one another. Can feel the press of something against his side, feeling the low vibrational hum in the base of the bosmer's throat, before he, almost tiredly, glanced up, and was greeted with warm blown-up dark brown eyes, looking almost black in the absence of sun. 

He was so close their noses were bumping.

He didn't understand how his chest could starve for something he was already getting; the closeness, the warmth, the breath - Galvorn was against him, hands everywhere, and attention fully gifted, and yet that craving stayed.

Revyn doesn't know why the following happened; if he hadn't behaved well enough, if he wasn't visibly as enthusiastic as he felt, but Galvorn seemed to slow. Air escaped from his lungs like a gust of wind, his chest aching as he wiggled his hips to no avail, when the wood elves hand stopped, much to his distress. Revyn made a frustrated groan, as the bosmer tapped his pinkie against Revyn's inner thigh, and it wasn't until the dunmer saw the playful upturn of the bosmers' lips that he realized what he was doing.

"Galvorn I am not a _plaything_ -"

"Riellei I would do anything for you and _to_ you," there was a brush along the space that he wanted the hands on him to so desperately press against, "tell me what to do."

Galvorn had moved so quickly before Revyn had quite literally forgotten to say anything, but- they were.. they were _so_ close. Would verbalizing have made a difference? Hadn't he been enthusiastic enough? What if someone hears-

"I-" Revyn pressed his lips together, his face flushed with a little bit more than need, as he scrambled to find what he wanted to say, settling with a flustered huff of, "I don't know where to start."

The bosmer pressed the flat of his hand hard against the ache between Revyn's legs, causing them to almost lock up if Galvorn wasn't actively keeping them apart. The response was immediate and loud, but the cry was half-muffled as Galvorn seemed to swallow the rest, a kiss pressed against Revyn's momentarily agape mouth, but was yet still quick to return it in fervor. He kept it up until Revyn grew lax against the sheets, breathing irregular and heavy, clutching at the body pressed beside him the best he could.

Galvorn didn't pull away, all teeth and tongue and neediness; he spoke quietly against the other's lips, all parted and fully unable to focus on kissing back when Galvorn, tongue swiping lower lip, murmured, slow and deliberate, "I'll do anything."

Revyn's arm that wasn't pressed against his sheet, reached half-blind behind him until his fingers made contact with the waist of Galvorn's trousers, struck by an ever odd sense of familiarity. Galvorn's hands occupied as Revyn struggled with the laces that keep the front bound, finding purchase as he was able to get the knot but got quickly frustrated when he couldn't get a good grip, tugging when he huffed in agitation, " _off. Now_."

Galvorn froze, and Revyn wondered if he had sounded too angry when he glanced up to gauge the damage, only to see a momentary glimpse of thrill there. Gal fully unwrapped himself from around the dunmer, rolling onto his back fairly quick. His hands rapidly undoing the laces binding his clothes, quick and practiced as he came undone but seemed too impatient to get them off further than simply open, pulling himself free as he then quickly swooped back against the dunmer.

An arm hooked under his leg, keeping it up and out of the way, other slipping back under the dunmers' side and around towards his inner thighs. Galvorn embodied earnestness and eagerness, his chest pressed against the dunmers' back, mouth pressing and kissing anywhere it can reach, clutching needy and urgent and with his entirety. 

Revyn made an embarrassing sound as soon as he felt the press of Galvorn's own arousal press against him.

"There it is," and _oh_ he sounded weak, pressing his mouth down along the back of Revyn's neck. It was thoughtless and humiliatingly desperate how hard he pressed back; Galvorn made a sound himself, hands racing along feverish flesh that goosebumped under his palms, feeling the press back from the body against him. Fingers finding give and pliancy, his calm giving way to flustered excitement.

"You rob me of breath," as one pressed down, and Revyn felt himself tense as the bosmer pushed down to the knuckle, "you're incredible. Riellei you- you're _so_ _good_."

Exhilaration like a rush in his chest, preening under the attention and wanting to lose himself in it.

Galvorn took his time; took long enough with repetitive motions that whatever tenseness might have been left over, now melted away with hiccuped breathy whines muffled behind the palm of the dunmer's hand. Long enough until tightness was building almost painfully, until his hands slipped from his mouth and down to the bosmers wrist; ecstasy began to rise in the base of his belly that flooded between his thighs.

Revyn pressed his cheek towards the pillow, huffing as his fingers dug against Gal's wrist, blinking as he tried to look from his wall downward, but he couldn't seem to pull his eyes away. Pleasure like a fog as breath rolled against the space just beneath his ear, accompanied by an unwelcome feeling of familiarity that wrapped around his awareness as it forced his attention to where he was.

It was just his bedroom.

These were his walls. This was his home.

Revyn couldn't shake the feeling of being seen.

Goosebumps trailed as a rush of cold raced along his legs towards his belly and chest, tightness like a pit that festered from arousal to confusion, intermixing like a fizzy cocktail that's unsettling his stomach.

Revyn swallowed, brows furrowed as his breath caught but- his- his chest hurt. Inhaling, pinpricks racing along everywhere Galvorn touched but it no longer felt as nice, and it- it wasn't _his_ fault. Revyn closed his eyes, trying to focus on the warmth still festering in his abdomen, rocking his hips faint, but his skin felt tacky and overwhelmed with a sense of wrongdoing.

It worsened, as he downturned his eyes. He could see himself, could see flushed skin and spread legs and..- humiliation coloured his cheeks.

_You look like a whore._

He blinked. Shaking the thoughts. No? This is fine, they-

Worries and fears like needles stabbing him all up along his arms and legs. His eyes nervously looking where they could reach, the familiar aches of paranoia digging it's teeth into his skin, sinking past his ribcage.

Revyn inhaled shaky, wanting so much to lean against the heat and warmth and want that was slipping away, only to be replaced with a deep sense of frustration and fear he didn't understand. This was home. This was _fine_.

It wasn't new, Galvorn has- they've done this before. They've-

But Revyn sees his walls. Walls that have eyes he cannot scrub away no matter how much he convinces himself there aren't any there. Llavrana cannot see him, nobody can see him, but it feels like this shameful act is on display. Feel's as though the Divine are watching, taking notes, weaving his behavior in a way that She can read, find and come after him for later.

Hands reached for shoved aside blankets, wanting some cover, but it was pinned beneath their bodies and his tugging was useless and he's exposed and disgusting, vile and filthy and his fears feel amplified here. Nights he's hid away under these covers, discreet and alone and so sure if he made a sound he'd be found, despite locked doors and empty rooms.

He didn't even realize Galvorn had stopped; didn't notice his shift until he felt the hand on his leg slip away, grip releasing and a hand on his shoulder rolling him onto his back where shade and shadow didn't obscure the worry.

Revyn wanted nothing to do with it.

"Revyn?" was said before he could gather what little thoughts could form, trying to force them away from the feeling of eyes on his skin, dread rising in his chest. "Is something wrong? Are you hurt?"

The dunmer blinked, the sudden shift in what was happening around him stark and sudden. Despite his skin crawling, he still galnced up at the bosmer sharply, shaking his head.

"What? No, I-" -what? What could he _possibly_ say?

He pushed upright abruptly, the action abortive and panicked, and Galvorn pushed up alongside him, questions on his lips that never passed as Revyn pressed the base of his hands against his eyes, rubbing furiously. A frustrated sound bubbled out, accompanied by an exhale so loud it could almost be categorized as a whine when his hand dropped to his lap, angry, dejected. He couldn't look over at Galvorn until the bosmer shifted into his line of sight, wordless, hands stilled and uncertain until Revyn tugged a bit uselessly on the blanket once more. Galvorn shifted, unpinning it from under him and allowing Revyn to cover his legs.

He couldn't get his heart to stop pounding. The side of his hand swiping a bit discreetly against the wall, as if to prove it were solid and rough, rather than fleshy like eyes nor smooth like window glass. His eyes briefly darting about the room, as if to confirm they were really and truly alone.

Revyn thought with precise purpose, almost shouting in his head, briefly caught up in making some nonverbal deal with the gods for their silence when he heard the careful thrum of Galvorn beside him. 

He almost forgot-

"Would it be okay if I touched you?" and he was using his eyes to gesture towards Revyns hands.

He swallowed. With a slow inhale, he did one last once over around the room, before looking towards the dragonborn with certainty. The tightness in his belly lessened, only somewhat, before exhaling, grabbing the bosmer's wrists with a little shake.

"I'm fine," he said shortly, "It's not you, I-" he pointedly didn't look him in the eyes, attention dropping to stare at the other's arms. His skin was crawling, a terrible sense of feeling Llavrana's presence around him in a place that he was so convinced she could scry her way through brick and stone to watch him. He doesn't think she's truly here, and truthfully perhaps she never was, but he wished he could feel more convinced.

"I wasn't as ready as I thought I was." it was humourless and embarrassing but Galvorn didn't roll his eyes nor did he scoff.

"Is there something I can do?"

Other than maybe them taking this someplace else, probably not.

Galvorn can't scrub away years of this place being haunted by the perceived belief of every action and thought being privy to the whims of his seer, and he doesn't know if this place will ever feel clean from her. Doesn't know if he will be able to convince himself fully she can't see him, or that she was ever capable to begin with.

Flustered, Revyn inhaled.

Maybe they could try again? Maybe it would help if he pressed his face against him, faced him, focused on his breathing. Let the room melt away, ignore the smell of his sheets, refuse to see the ceiling beyond blond hair and flushed freckled cheeks.

Though, maybe it would be for the best if they simply got cleaned up. Dress all quiet and awkward and uncertain; Revyn being forced to swallow down his own humiliation eventually, or simply just long enough to maybe explain what he thinks went wrong.

Galvorn has stressed how important it was to communicate, and he wasn't necessarily _wrong_ , as he was asking a _lot_ from someone who struggles to do so. Opening up is a form of vulnerability. Vulnerabilities can be taken advantage of. Revyn is underdressed, cold, seen, and there is guilt there now. Guilt that hadn't been so loudly present when they were alone in the cabin.

How does he even tell him that being wanted was a bad thing, that what they're doing is wrong.

They should stop.

Llavrana will find out.

Or worse, she already knows because his walls told her. Betrayers and traitors the lot of them.

It's his fault for letting it get this far to begin with, he should have never allowed it to go so far. Shouldn't have allowed him to stay the night, not here, not where her sight was soaked into the very stone of this place. Not when he couldn't keep Galvorn hidden from her, not where he can't even hide himself.

There was a certainty there in his chest that couldn't survive the moment he looked at Galvorn.

What was it, back in the cabin, that felt _different_ he wonders? Was it the lights being off? The unfamiliar sheets and walls made up of different memories? Those walls were secret keepers, he recalls; dragonborn maskless, bare, alone. Rooms filled with unknowns and oddities that are surrounded by the thicket and snow, untouched by prying eyes. Whatever argument he had built up in his head left a tired impression against his chest, still tight and pounding, as he was slammed by the feeling of never wishing for this to happen again, and how badly he wanted to do it over, to lean over and just kiss him and to simply stop feeling so scared.

"Is it always like this?" Revyn eventually found his voice, though his words weren't quite as carefully picked as he would normally like. The bosmer was quiet a long while, long enough that Revyn found some courage to glance up from arms to eyes, only to find them warm and confused. Galvorn dropped his eyes to his hands, not answering right away before he pulled back.

Revyn worried sharply that he was going to leave, before realizing that Gal was only leaning over to grab something from his satchel to wipe his hands with.

"What do you mean?" was Galvorn's rather nonspecific answer, as Revyn watched as he pressed a rag over the lip of his waterskin, tipping it upsidedown before once again capping it and putting it to the side. He ran the now half wet rag over his hands, looking over at the dunmer almost expectantly.

The air was thick, but not uncomfortable. Revyn still had his hands against the covers, tugged up around his hips. He made a vague sort of gesture with his wrist, "this, I mean." he responded even less helpfully, before saying, "whatever this is."

"You mean seeing someone?" Galvorn would almost sound amused if he wasn't trying so hard to be careful. Revyn bristled a bit regardless.

"We're not seeing each other, it's-" another half-thought-out movement with his hand, words failing him as he tried to find something that quantified this strange dance they've found themselves in; none of the steps fully understood as they took them regardless. He frowned at nothing in particular. "I don't entirely know what this is but it's not that."

Revyn struggled to meet the other's eyes, but he could feel Gal _looking_ at him, and so it was hard to avoid. He glanced back up, and there was-

He blinked, startled.

Galvorn was looking at him with so much, just- just amused affection, it was alarming. Did Galvorn mishear him? 

"Do you remember that conversation we had in the market some time ago?"

Revyn looked at him oddly, confused. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"You asked me to dinner in the most unattached way," Galvorn hummed, his voice warm, as he eventually dropped the rag, adjusting the way he was sitting in order to face the other far more fully. "Do you remember what I said?"

Revyn wasn't entirely sure; he's had a lot going on to think on it much as of late. Galvorn didn't give him a whole lot of time to recall, fortunately, before saying; "I said, is this the merchant speaking, or the person?"

Recollection came, as did a sigh, "You assumed they were different."

"I know they're different," Galvorn elaborated, "I _know_ they are because you push the merchant forward to keep yourself from being vulnerable around anyone." he said, "I wear a mask too, Revyn."

Revyn made a sound, grimacing, "It's not mask-wearing, and it's not a- a separate facade. It's just _me_."

Galvorn snorted, his back leaning against the headboard. "Mine's made of stone and doesn't play pretend."

"I'm not playing-"

"Then what would you say is happening then?" and Revyn couldn't look at him directly because he wouldn't be able to form words. Galvorn gave some pause, just long enough to be sure Revyn wasn't going to say anything, "Goodness, don't look like that."

Revyn frowned, before a hand found his arm and he sighed loud and dramatic, slumping back against the headboard as well. There was a snort beside him, and it seemed to slowly sap that terrible feeling festering in the pit of his belly away with every little hiccupped noise. Another hand found his chin, turning his head to look at the bosmer who has his lips pressed together in mild thought, giving him a serious, pointed look. Revyn might have said something sharp, not really in the mood for Galvorn's flowery monologues, before that hand moved up without a single thought and squished his cheeks.

"You are stunning." and he said it as if it were the most important thing he could ever say, brows furrowed and staring down at the mushed face of the dunmer before him. Revyn shoved at Galvorns' arms, feeling _immediately_ ridiculous, trying to swallow down a laugh because he wanted _answers_ , to feel his upset _through_ , but it was hard when he saw the edge of Galvorns' mouth crack up, as though fighting a smile himself.

"I'm not here to criticize you," turning his head left and right in his grasp, "something is clearly wrong and if now isn't a good time to address it then I won't. You said you're not available until I return, so if that is your boundary then I will return when your requirement of me is fulfilled." exhaling through his nose, letting his hand fall from Revyns' cheeks to drop to his lap, "I'm derailing you, aren't I?

Revyn snorted, "wouldn't be the first time."

"What did you mean before?"

He looked down at the blanket over his lap. It wasn't so much a.. an in-the-moment fear as he felt before; not when Galvorn was relaxed beside him, not when he felt covered and unseen. When he didn't respond at first, he saw the back of Gal's hand bump his blanket covered knee, prodding and listening.

"Uhm," he pressed his lips together, "this?"

Galvorn quirked a brow, before Revyn elaborated faint, "does it always sort of feel.. this way? Just.. wrong?"

Galvorn seemed to pause, glancing down at the blanket, quirking his mouth to the side. Revyn realized after saying it how badly what he said could be taken, but eventually, the bosmer looked back up at him with a little shake of the head.

"I suppose it depends," was his answer, "it's different for everyone."

"What was it like for you?"

Gal scrunched his nose, his smile amused, "Oh, _my_ first times?" making a grand, wide, nonchalant gesture towards nothing, "It was _awful_."

Revyn choked a bit, snorting a "really?"

The blond stretched back, arms above his head as he nodded, "Oh just terrible," elbows catching to rest on the back of the headboard, "I was someplace I shouldn't be, with someone I wasn't supposed to be with." he lulled his head towards Revyn as he drawled, "in retrospect, it hadn't been that bad. The reasons around why I should or shouldn't be there were arbitrary and wrong, but at the time, it didn't make me feel any less guilty about it."

"Oo the great dragonborn ridden with such mortal guilt," Revyn intoned, "hard to imagine you burdened by such trivial things when your problems are so extraordinary."

"You're going to be terribly disappointed when you find out that when I get cut, I dont bleed the light from the heavens," Galvorn hummed, looking up towards the ceiling, eyes half-lidded in what Revyn presumed was thought. "I wasn't born a deity, you know. I had to be taught how to read much like everyone else."

"I have a hard time imagining you so small," Revyn pinched his arm, "I can't imagine whoever thought to teach you whatever you have stored to the teeth in your personal library."

Galvorn barely caught a grimace, before chuckling under his breath, almost uncomfortable. Revyn caught it before Galvorn could fully bury whatever _that_ was. Something held his tongue before he could venture to ask, where Galvorn responded a little lackluster, "Mostly my own doing. I have a deep love for knowledge, and there are all sorts of forgotten tomes scattered around Tamriel from ages and civilizations long since dead."

"You taught _yourself_ how to read all that?"

Gal scrunched his nose, "I had a teacher, but that's a.. a story for another time." 

Revyn eyed him, chewing on his cheek. A breath, then, "What did you say earlier about mask-wearing? That."

Gal chuckled, confused, "What?"

"You," Revyn made a gesture, "you say all these interesting things, hints of experiences, of events, of people, and yet you say absolutely nothing. A teacher, a person you once had, someone who gave you purple flowers. They _feel_ important."

Galvorn pressed his lips together, straightening up, "Oh?" and there was still humour there, unserious, "I travel quite a bit. I have interactions with people and places and it's rather difficult to keep track of it all."

"A place you weren't supposed to be, with someone you weren't supposed to be with? There are _stories_ there Gal, interesting stories." it helped, in a way, to distract his feelings of paranoia with focusing on something else, someone else. Focused on questions from before, of all the things he wants to know so much about the person beside him, wanting to ask and know, and be apart of those stories that Galvorn will one day keep and carry with him like so much else. Revyn prodded, though not particularly hard, "I don't usually have such a..- a difficult time getting someone to regale me of their woes, per se. You skip past them and don't acknowledge the prod to hear more."

"Feels rather early to divulge into my _truly_ tragic past," Galvorn smiled, but when Revyn shot him an unimpressed glance, exhaled, "look, we can talk about my terribly boring childhood all you want when I come back from the whole End of the World business, how does that sound?" he squeezed Revyns' arm, "I mostly want to check in with you to make sure you're okay. You seemed scared and I want to make sure that doesn't happen again, okay?"

Revyn didn't miss how quickly Galvorn seemed to deflect, which only piqued his interest further; never was it a good time, it seemed, to discuss anything of real note with the dragonborn, even as he clung to those questions with earnest to focus on quite literally anything other than his embarrassing little panic. He held them close and filed them away for later, looking for the tells of subversion or nervousness, and the only strange thing he found was how disinterested Galvorn seemed to be in talking about it. No anxious movements of the eyes or fingers, no tense line between his brows or against the edges of his lips; nothing.

Maybe there wasn't really much to say.

He couldn't fully place why he didn't quite believe that.

"What can I do to keep that from happening again?" Galvorns voice cut through Revyn's thoughts, "am I moving you too fast?"

"No, it's-" he pressed his lips together, "I'm being foolish. This is my own doing." Galvorn didn't say anything, the question prevalent on his face when eventually Revyn twisted the covers between his hands. "It's just.. this place. Made me rather intimately aware that I'm behaving.. particularly unbecoming." he tried to explain, "Nothing you did. I suppose I assumed I would be fine considering I was alright our.." he bit his lower lip, heat festering high on his cheekbones, "ah- first time." he cleared his throat, "I overestimated myself, as is evident."

It was unclear if Galvorn understood what he meant or what was being said, particularly due to the fact Revyn couldn't consistently look him in the eyes, but even partially because there was this stillness that's come over the bosmer that Revyn had a difficult time reading. Most folks had little gives and glimpses of what they're thinking; Galvorn, at least at the moment, had none. There wasn't a tenseness about him, not a feeling of threat, as there was concern and warmth and that, at least, was unmistakable. Hard to miss when his chin was pushed up and Gal scooted a little closer, a question of permission, to which Revyn granted a small nod.

Galvorn sat properly beside him, wrapping an arm around the other's shoulders, slouching at his side. Revyn felt a kiss against his temple, when Galvorn let out a breath.

"If at any point I start to cross a line, you tell me, okay?" Revyn looked up at him, greeted with so much seriousness it made him feel less silly for causing a scene. "Feel's as though I've been poking at you all day to speak up, but I mean it. Anything, every thought that crosses your mind, I want to hear it."

"My thoughts consist of too much," Revyn tried to jest, letting his head rest where shoulder met chest, looking down at the length of Gal's ridiculously long legs, "things weren't quite so complicated before."

"I'm good with complicated." and Revyn chuckled at that, faint and quiet under his breath, feeling Galvorn squeeze his shoulder before looking back up at him. 

"If I'm unhappy with something, you'll be the first to know." Galvorn smiled, pleased, and goodness the sight of him made his chest ache.

What's the harm, he thinks.

What's the harm in having this, even if it's temporary? Even if their first greetings are accompanied by final goodbyes? It wasn't love, it wasn't forever, it was just- something. Something small. Something private, and their's, and it didn't need to be more than that.

Would that be okay? Would it count against him in the grand scheme of things? If he returned to everything from before? Return to principles he's struggling with, patch up the foundation that's cracking along his flesh, and attempting to splinter down to his bones? Maybe if they don't get discovered, then it never _really_ happened, right? He can pretend, and talk his way out of just about anything, and when Galvorn leaves and becomes the hero he's destined to be, Revyn will become one of those many experiences Galvorn won't discuss again.

It's okay.

If he can have this now, then it's okay.

Llavrana doesn't need to know, nobody needs to know; it shouldn't be that difficult to not feel heartbroken when Galvorn is gone. Revyn has lost many friends over the years, people he's loved and cared for and misses, and he still wakes up each day and faces what's to come with his chin held high. This will be no different.

There was more here; more he wanted to ask, more he wanted to say - all of which, cut off and amounting to nothing, stomach-dropping rapid when there was a knock on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Galvorn has the Horniest energy, and I love him for that.
> 
> I will also say; I have so much trouble for NO reason when writing sexier scenes. If an update takes a WHILE to pop out, probably assume there is a sexy bit, because they always take me like 3x as long to write, uhg. This was supposed to be posted last weekend but I got STUCK on literally 2 paragraphs because I could not for the life of me figure out why it didn't sound right.
> 
> I keep coming into these chapters with half ideas and absolutely convinced it's going to be a short chapter and EVERY time it ends up being much longer than I meant. Anyways, thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!


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